An Eagle's Path
by ByAGhost
Summary: She came to know that a feather symbolizes many things, something her Father once tried to tell her when she was a child. The feather she had found was actually luck in disguise, but she hadn't understood it then. Nor did she understand that that luck, would be in the form of one peculiar Assassin. Their lives became entwined the day he decided to save her, in many ways than one.
1. Chapter 1

_~ An Eagle's Path ~_

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My first Assassin's Creed story, but my fourth story in total. How cool isn't that? I'm surprised actually, barely even one year ago, I would've never seen myself able to publish a story here. I just figured I was too bad at writing.

But hey, look at me, I'm seriously publishing my fourth story, I'm amazed.

Definitely something to be proud of.

Anyhow, onwards with the story and the disclaimer so you can finally read!

 **Note:** I'm only going to do the disclaimer once, and it's in this chapter!

 **Disclaimer:** _I don't own Assassin's Creed or any of its characters! Although the OCs are mine._

 **P.S.** _For those who read the story up until 30/05-16, I have changed Mother Nasja'h's name to Nashwa, as Nashwa means intoxicating and/or fragnance. I feel this fits her character better, and most arabic names have a meaning. However, Faher's name is completely made up._

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 **Chapter One – _Feather's Fate_**

Masyaf was a city that rarely ever slept. Not even during the nights did silence ensue within. Despite the calm exterior Masyaf presented from afar, the city shielded by its massive walls, it was anything _but._ The exterior was only an illusion, one that broke with every waking day when the sun crawls above the distant horizon of the land. Come high-noon, the paved streets bustle with life - merchants calling out to walking by passers, trying to lure them in with their wares as giggling courtesans dressed in fine silks hide underneath the shades to keep away from the heat of the sun beating down ruthlessly. Carts wheel their way through the endless streams of people carrying newly acquired goods meant to later be sold or traded, and the thieves of the city use such opportunities when the civilians are distracted to pickpocket from those unfortunate ones to have their attention drawn away.

The daily commotion that happens in the heart of Masyaf, is the singular trait that separates the city from the rest. There was always something that happened during the day, surprising the people within with new interesting turns of events – whether it be the thieves, brawls or kidnappings; there simply wasn't a day that passed by without trouble occurring. And on this specific day, a girl finds herself running away from the city guards. She was the day's main event.

Her fingers clambered for the stretch of wood that was above her, and as it came within reach, they dug themselves into the solid material, gripping onto it with desperation as to not let the piece of wood go. She swung her body forward and upwards, using the force of the swing to help her in heaving her form up onto the protruding wooden beam. A rush of air escaped her lips as she quickly steadied her footing before coming low into a crouch and pressing her frame as far as possible into the surface of the wall behind her.

If she were to stumble and then fall down, the hard impact onto the paved ground wouldn't be the only thing awaiting her, the guards would great her with a welcome party consisting of swords and spears. A party she rather not be invited to.

As she settled onto the ledge she threw a wayward glance downwards, and her eyes widened slightly in surprise, for she was _way_ further up than what she had originally anticipated. She hadn't known that the jump from the crates up to the beam would be so _far_ _up_ , yet it seemed to be that way.

It was a surprising feat for her, because she didn't know her small form was capable of succeeding with such a thing, but somehow and someway she managed to find herself nestled on top of the wooden beam - even though the logic of it evaded her.

The most sensible explanation she could find in order to actually understand, was that it had to be her desperation in wanting to avoid the guards that helped in fueling the adrenalin coursing through her body at the time, making her mind ignore the many risks of jumping to the ledge, instead just going with her body's instincts. She was grateful over that fact, for if she hadn't had that extra energy fueling her, she would probably be running the streets still, turning corners and elbowing people out of the way in an attempt to throw the guards off her track. Luckily though, that scene never had to play out since she was now at present time located on a far above ledge, and could study the bustling people below in peace, without the rampaging city guards on her heel.

Not that watching people was a particularly fun pastime however, it was actually a rather boring thing to do, especially for someone who had lived in the city all her life. She had seen the same people many times over and over, and they along the way simply lost the interest they once held.

A stampede of footsteps quickly neared her position, and a sudden zing of fear shot through her body, causing her to hold her breath in anticipation. The danger wasn't over yet, not until the guards disappeared.

The forming lump in her throat was making it difficult for her to swallow, and she had to stop her body from going into complete lockdown several times by having to force air down to her lungs. Her concentration on keeping steady on the ledge suddenly started to suffer from her lack of focus, and she faltered in her footing, her balance unhinging. To maintain the last of her balance, she quickly grasped the wall behind her - in order to keep herself intact, all the while inwardly hoping and praying that she wouldn't make the mistake of falling down and then get spotted by the incoming guards.

Her heartbeat had skyrocketed at the distinctive sound of the stampeding guards, and it was now beating two times quicker than its usual steady rhythm. Her every attempt at calming her heart turned out to be futile, for it was vigilant in beating 300 times per minute, and she made a sound of frustration.

She knew she was high up above ground level so that a normal peripheral wasn't enough to see her, but there was still the chance that one of the guards looked smarter than he was and would glance upwards and take notice of her huddling position in the completely obvious and out in the open hiding spot. And if they did, they would probably proceed to shoot her down with arrows and then drag her to some closed off place and she would be gone from history for good.

It was the usual scenario that happened when people were caught stealing - that, or they came back with only one hand. She had seen it happen, to both strangers and to those she once called friends.

It wasn't a pleasant sight, watching them wither away.

She shivered at the thought of losing one of her own limbs like they had. A thief with only one good working hand would no longer be able to continue their profession, but if they didn't they would most likely starve to death, presuming that infection didn't kill them off first. Either way, the odds of survival would be close to none if she lost one of her hands, and those weren't exactly the odds she would want to be up against.

However, she didn't have to, because she solved the issue by escaping in her own unique fashion - she simply took to the walls and rooftops, the guards not agile enough to scale the walls quick enough to catch her before she disappeared from sight.

The stampeding guards were now right below her, and the breath she inhaled caught in her throat at the close proximity. It was rather nerve-wracking to be in plain sight like she was, for everyone could see her if they chose to look up.

However, fortune must have been upon her that moment for the guards just continued on, leaving only dust particles and annoyed pedestrians that were shoved out of their way in their wake. A relieved sigh escaped her when she finally could let the held in breath go.

There were no smart guards in today's patrol, and she thanked Allah for such luck.

When she finally deemed it safe enough, the guards no longer visible, she let herself relax against the wall once again. Now she could proudly state that she survived another day in the vicious streets of the Poor District in Masyaf.

After reclining against the wall, she proceeded to take out the object that caused the whole situation to occur – a now squished loaf of bread that had been hidden inside her outer tunic in order to free her hands to grasp onto the ledge during her escape.

She stared hard onto the almost offending, not to mention limp, piece of loaf, her brow slowly titling downwards into a frown as her stormy grey eyes scrutinized it critically. She believed the loaf of bread _almost_ wasn't worth all the trouble it had caused, that she almost regretted having set her sights on it.

The guards had called her thief when they saw her holding the loaf of bread in her hands, believing that she was stealing it but in reality she had just handed the baker the few coins she had managed to scrape together to _buy_ it. Even though she was an actual thief, having been forced to become one in order to _survive,_ she for once wanted to buy something rather than stealing it.

It made her feel _normal._ That she wasn't just the orphan living day by day on the streets, having her only homage in the roof gardens.

For once, she just wanted to feel like she had a good life than the miserable lowlife of a thief. And she wanted to atone for the times she had stolen from him, by paying for a loaf whenever the opportunity came.

But apparently it seemed as her wish simply wasn't meant to be, because the one day she chose to be like every other person, to actually _be_ like them and buy herself a day's worth of food, she was accused for theft.

Her fate was predestined to be that of a thief's for the rest of her life.

The thought left a sad smile to form on her lips, the corners pulling only slightly upwards. She had her eyes downcast in thought, but then after a few moments quickly dismissed it all. There was no point in mulling over such thoughts, there was nothing to gain from them than wishful thinking. Instead, she thought back on how the whole situation started, analyzing what had gone wrong.

At the guards' out-of-nowhere sudden accusation towards her, proclaiming that she was a _thief,_ she had turned her surprised eyes towards the baker that sold the bread, believing he would do the honorable deed of denying the guards' false acclamations. It would be a natural thing for a marketer to protect their customer, at least that's what she believed, or else the customers wouldn't come back to buy more, and they'd lose part of their business.

But to her horror this particular marketer and baker didn't seem to share her train of thought, for she discovered when looking upon his stony face that he would do _no_ such thing, instead opting for simply letting the guards believe she was truly stealing the bread. Her eyes had filled with disbelief, which quickly shifted to anger instead at the display of his dishonesty - and not to mention downright _greedy_ behavior.

As the anger swept through her body, awakened by the baker's actions, or rather _lack thereof_ , she threw him one her best glares, and in the last second before he had clenched his beefy hand around the coins, she took them back, sweeping them away from the palm of his hand into her own before she proceeded with taking off at full speed when the guards started to close in on her position.

If she was going to be called a thief, even though she had paid for the loaf that time, and then only be repaid with nothing, she figured she might as well act the part. It didn't matter what she did anyhow, because the outcome would've been the same - it was just a matter of whether she would be coinless or not, in which the latter option sounded much more alluring, especially after the baker's ignorance towards the false proclamations. Vengeance felt _good._

Brought back to present time, she looked down onto the loaf of bread in thought, contemplating whether she should eat it now or save it for later. Her stomach then rumbled at the thought of food, and the decision was made. Obviously her stomach called for dinner to be served.

But before she dug into her well-earned meal, she climbed the rest of the way up to the rooftop. The view would be much more pleasant, and she wouldn't have to worry about any stray individual looking up and spotting her sitting on the beam eating a piece of bread. They would probably just draw the same conclusion as everyone else, that she _stole_ it, and then call for the guards. Leading them astray once today sufficed. She felt no need in having a repeat of today's events.

Upon reaching the top of the roof, a smile lit up her face and she immediately felt at ease. From the rooftops she could easily view big chunks of the city and the people distantly milling about on the streets. It was a calming sight, to see the world from above. It was as if she could simply escape her life for a while, no longer having to worry about how she would survive the following day and just embrace the spectacular view instead.

She let her eyes observe the rooftops from her position, gliding over the chimneys and wooden poles, until they landed on one of the roof gardens nearby. Glancing at the loaf in her hand, she decided that the closed off gardens would be the ultimate and prefect place to eat in peace and quiet and so she hopped over to the connecting roof before jogging over to the garden.

But on her trip there a shriek suddenly reached her ears, coming from the left. Her eyes widened upon hearing the feminine outcry, and she quickly rushed over to the edge of the roof, peering over it to search for the source of the shriek.

She found it soon enough – it was coming from one of the two women that were at the moment being harassed by city guards. The _same_ city guards that had previously chased _her_. Her anger from before came rushing back, this time awakened by the injustice happening below her.

However, her anger was accompanied by a sense of guilt, because she was the one that had lead the guards to where the currently were, which meant she was the cause for the two women being harassed. Her brow crinkled, the frown on her face deepening. She would have to justify her actions.

She quickly climbed down the wall, using one of the nearby merchants' roof cloths to land on to soften the last bit of her climb as she jumped onto it before rolling onto the ground, her body creating a dust cloud on impact.

Her legs quickly rushed over to the three guards, ignoring the surprised yell of the merchant, her short but rapid strides eating the distance in between in huge bites as a plan started to formulate in her mind. The plan was to distract the guards, to make them recognize her so their attention would no longer be on the two girls but on her instead. That way, the two could escape and she would be left to deal with the guards.

Again.

The irony was undeniable.

It was a simple strategy that she had managed to think up but a very functional one as she grabbed ahold of the cloth of the middle guard, pulling him slightly backwards before kicking him in the tendon of one of his knees. She quickly pulled him the rest of the way down to the ground when his balance destabilized from her kick, and he landed on his hide with an _'oomph'_ on impact. The other two guards she just shoved forwards and they stumbled from her push, momentarily losing their footing.

Her lips slightly quirked upwards at finally being the one to harass the guards rather than it being the other way around. Opportune moments like these were rare, and so she relished in it as much as possible before it ended.

The two shoved guards soon regained their footing as the middle guard rose from his position on the ground. All three then turned towards their assailant, who was her, and she saw the recognition flash in their eyes when their eyes landed on her prone form.

One of her brows quirked upwards and she shrugged her shoulders at them before sending them a teasing lopsided smile.

"You got the wrong girl, guys." She said before once again taking off, brushing up dirt with the spin of her heels.

The guards, still stuck in their surprise, shook it off and quickly gathered their wits and bounded after her. One of the guards, she figured it was the middle one since he was the one that received the most embarrassment, yelled after her disappearing form;

"You won't escape us this time, _peasant!_ "

What was unbeknownst to her though, as she ran away, leading the guards astray, was that the women she had rescued were courtesans of Mother Nasja'h, a famed woman, and owner of the Nightshade brothel, which was a renowned place that many men, and even a few women of Masyaf, knew of.

The elderly woman running the place had a kind heart, for her brothel wasn't just any brothel. The women working for her did so out of their free choice, even though the choice of being a slave or a courtesan wasn't exactly the definition of 'freedom', but the girls in the brothel were cared for, and if one of the women found a man to marry, she would be fully allowed to leave. That is, if there was another girl available to take her place at the time. If not, of course, they would have to wait until the opportunity showed, but at least the place wasn't as much a prison as most other brothels were.

The Nightshade brothel was simply special, in many more ways than one.

The girl who once again was being chased by the same guards from before, was having a bit of trouble in throwing the guards off by simply walking inside the milling crowds of the streets. She would have to be more inventive if she were to escape them a second time.

That moment soon came in the form of an alleyway, one she swiftly made her way into when she reached it. Her eyes quickly swept over the narrow area and they landed on a piles of stacked crates, most likely they belonged to the marketer that was standing at the other end of the narrow passage. Thinking that the marketer wouldn't mind, she jumped up onto the crates, climbing to the top before grasping onto the protruding rocks and heave herself up onto the wall. She scaled it with a little difficulty, having no help in either ledges or windows, the rocks the only support she had. But the distance up to the roof wasn't all too far up and she soon found herself on the top, panting from exertion.

The sound of the guards' yelling passed by her alley and continued on, as they were unknowing to the fact that she was on the rooftop and not running through the crowds.

She lie on the rooftop, her chest heaving up and down from the second escape of the guards. Her eyes were staring up into the cloudless sky, idly studying it. A small breeze then suddenly swept through, ruffling her clothing. Her skin shivered slightly at the contact of the cold breeze, the wavering warmth of her body reacting to the sudden cool air. Her grey eyes shifted slightly to the side as she saw something move in her peripherals. It turned out to be a bird that was occupying the sky, its gracious wings surfing on the air. Upon further scrutiny, she discovered that the bird wasn't just any bird – it was an Eagle.

She watched it soar over the skies, her eyes tracking its every movement.

The moment of peace shattered when she heard someone calling out into the crowd below. They were calling out for someone, and she idly wondered who. Her curiosity getting the better of her, she rose from her position and walked over to the edge of the roof, spying down onto the streets below. Her brow tilted upwards as her eyes widened. Below her were the two girls that she had saved.

And they were the ones that were calling out to the crowd.

"Has anyone seen a girl with brown hair, bearing a burgundy tunic? Have you, sir? Mother Nashwa is looking for her!" She heard one of them ask a stranger, who only shook his head and continued on his way. She frowned, for she had brown hair, and she was wearing a burgundy tunic. Why would they be looking for her? Rather, why would this Mother Nashwa, whoever it was, look for her?

She decided on approaching the two girls, for they would have the answers, and she climbed down from the roof, landing a little roughly next to a marketer's stand. He threw her a surprised glance, her sudden appearance from nowhere startling him. She smiled apologetically towards him before brushing off the dirt on her hands that had impacted with the earth packed floor, and she then jogged over to the two girls. Upon seeing her approaching form, the two girls smiled widely, immediately recognizing her and they rushed over to greet her.

At first she was startled, not having anticipated their… joyous reaction, but she returned their smile with her own, albeit not as wide, smile.

"There you are! We have been looking for you, come! Mother Nashwa wants to see you!" One of the girls barely finished speaking the words before both grabbed ahold of her wrists and started pulling her along, not giving her the chance to reply. Nor the chance of asking just who this 'mother' was.

 _'I think I will discover that soon enough, though.'_ She stated inside her mind to herself. They rapidly walked along the street, turning various corners before finally coming to a stop outside a towering building. It was painted green, with small golden details covering the walls, and it even had vines crawling up the sides of it. Surrounding the house was a lattice fence, suggesting that it probably had a garden of a sort on the backside.

The girls however, didn't give her much time to study the building, as they stormed over to the stairs, bringing her with them. She stumbled a few times, unable to gain her footing because the two girls almost manhandled her like a pair of ruffians, which was a bit surprising, since they were the courtesans, the complete opposite of a ruffian.

The girls then deposited her in the entrance of the brothel, the two giggling as they walked up a staircase to the right, most likely fetching this Mother Nasja'h. Not really knowing what to do, she just remained in the same place they left her. She let her gaze slowly sweep across the room, studying the interior with interest.

The brothel actually looked _cozy_. There were mats on the floor, paintings with landscape motifs on them decorating the walls… And they even had cushions stacked in piles on top of a wooden bench, or couch or whatever it was, she was quite unsure, but it had blankets hanging off of its sides, too. She was intrigued over the fact that it was so decorative, she had always assumed that brothels were rundown houses with scarce decorating and packed with women that lured men inside.

But, she supposed that last part was still true in some way, for the courtesans were definitely pretty enough to entice the men of Masyaf…

She ended the train of thought.

She shifted on her feet, idly wondering how Mother Nasja'h would look like. Was she as pretty as the two girls that brought her here? She blushed a little when she found that she actually thought the women were _pretty._

She didn't have to keep her curiosity at bay for too long, because right at that moment a woman in a _very_ pristine dress came down the stairs, the other two girls following closely behind the older lady. Her eyes went wide at the sight of the elder woman, and she threw her gaze down to the floor. It would be rude to stare at someone like she almost had done!

Instead she opted to fiddle with her fingers, not knowing what else to do.

She heard the ruffle of a dress moving, and in her peripherals, she noticed that Mother Nashwa had come to stand before her.

"So you are the girl that saved my two beautiful courtesans from the harassment of the city guards?"

She only nodded in reply, not trusting her voice to speak up without it faltering as she kept her eyes downcast onto the wooden floor boarding.

The elderly woman then clicked her tongue, and suddenly her chin was grasped and forced upwards. Her surprised grey eyes met the most brilliant blue eyes she had ever seen in her life, and a silent gasp left her. The woman looked so _beautiful,_ and _wise,_ with those blue eyes and curly hazel brown hair.

"Such a young girl… Stuck on the streets, forced to fend for oneself… It is so _cruel."_ She heard Mother Nashwa whisper to herself. The elderly woman lifted both her hands and grasped the sides of her face, holding her in a tenderly fashion as if she was her own daughter.

"You are not entirely from here, are you, dear? Your cheekbones are rounded, and your skin is lighter. I'm thinking it was your mother who had these traits?" Mother Nashwa then gently asked. She couldn't muster up a reply, because she noticed how Mother Nashwa had used the past tense of the word 'has'. She solemnly knew that the woman had figured she was an orphan.

"What would you say – would you want to work for me? I'm in need of a little help around here, and from what my girls have told me, you are also quite well-versed with Masyaf's rooftops?" A glint in Mother Nashwa's eyes lit up, and her painted lips curved upwards into a sly smile.

"Would you like to run errands for me when I'm in need of it? And clean a few bedchambers every morning? In exchange, I will keep you fed and safely sheltered. I'm eternally grateful from keeping my girls out of trouble." Mother Nashwa continued, her kind eyes searching the depths of her own grey.

She had her own smile form on her lips at the offer, and she nodded fervently in reply.

"…Yes, I would… Thank you!" She murmured, her voice uncertain, for she was unsure if this was really happening.

She might have a place to call _home._

"Well then, it is settled! Girls, show this young girl her room-oh, I forgot to ask! What is your name, dear?" The woman turned back to her, dress swishing with the motion as her head tilted in question.

She just smiled timidly before answering;

"Akiah, my name is Akiah."

That significant day marked the end of her days of having to live on the streets. She was finally given a home, somewhere to feel safe and protected, and most of all, _cared for._ Mother Nashwa became her adoptive mother, for she quickly found a strong friendship and bond with the elder woman.

She wouldn't have to live day by day anymore, and she smiled in relief.

For the past nine months she did what Mother Nashwa had asked of her; she ran the woman's errands for her, delivering letters and small objects to her contacts, all varying from simple trinkets to daggers. Although Akiah never questioned _why_ she had to deliver _daggers_ to some of her clients, she at times found herself idly wondering about it anyway.

Not to mention that during all those months of living with Mother Nashwa, she had sometimes seen strange people come into the brothel, some of them even dropping in through the _roof_ than using the regular doorway. They carried peculiar white-clothed robes, with red sashes and leather belts wrapped around their middle. Akiah found the garments intriguing, for they were definitely odd.

But the most interesting about the strange people, were that they all bore peaked hoods that shrouded their identity from view.

She had asked Mother Nashwa about them, believing that they were special clients of sort, but each time Akiah had asked, the woman refused to tell her. Until recently, that is. Half a month back, the elderly woman finally gave in to her questioning and told her of the secrecy of the Nightshade brothel - Of why the strange white-clad hooded people came through into the brothel at the oddest times in the oddest ways.

The brothel was associated with a Creed, the _Assassin's Creed._ The woman explained that it's a secret Brotherhood, one who fights against enemies called Templars. Akiah understood that they were the reason why the guards were so corrupt and why Masyaf was in a state of chaos.

It was because of the Templars, people that were set on changing the world just to suit their own benefits.

A hate immediately settled within her towards the Templars. She had firsthand seen the cruelty of that Order. She remembered vividly of what the guards of the city were up to when the city people weren't looking.

The Assassin's Creed however, was a whole other story. She was captivated by the Creed, the Order intriguing her already from the beginning. Her interest developed over time when she spotted the white-robed men on other places than at the brothel. They too used the rooftops as a mean of travel, just like her.

On the days when she wasn't busy, she would sneak up as close as she dared to the Creed's mansion, which wasn't located too far from the Nightshade brothel, her eyes simply observing and studying the stronghold from afar. It was one of her favourite pastimes, to watch the Assassins return or leave for missions, some walking through its massive gates while others opted for jumping the rooftops and then scale the wall only to disappear from sight. From her many hours of just watching and observing, she now knew of the many different ways of entrance into the fortress.

She had even managed to peg down which Assassin preferred which entrance.

Of course, she couldn't be careless when she was observing the Creed. If she were, a dagger would most likely come flying her way. The Creed probably didn't take kindly on spies, but since she was a young woman, merely 17, their attention wasn't all too drawn towards her, and they let her be.

Akiah knew that _they_ knew that she was observing them from the nearby watch tower.

They were after all Assassins.

During the beginnings of her watching the Brotherhood, she only saw them as a whole, the Assassins, but as the days passed she took notice of how their garments differed. It was simple things really, varying from either a short red sash, a simple leather belt or fewer weapons on their persons. Even the peak on some of the Assassins' hoods were different, some carrying far less detail than others. It was also those with fewer weapons that had the less intricate designs on their clothing. Inwardly she wondered why it was like that.

Every time she had a question about the Creed, which was actually quite often, unfortunately for Mother Nashwa, she had asked her adoptive mother for answers. And so she asked her why their garments differed.

At first though when she had started asking questions, she had received a scolding for being so near the gates of their mansion. She was trespassing on their property, and she wasn't showing them the respect they deserved by keeping her distance, Nashwa had said. But Akiah couldn't just lay down her interest towards the Creed, so she kept asking the elderly woman, pestering her with the same questions over and over.

The woman then got enough of her invading questioning and decided to finally let her in on why. However she hadn't done so without a warning.

"You better be able to handle the consequences, Akiah, because if you know too much about the Creed, you will become a liability. They do not take kindly to strangers knowing much about them, if at all. I am only telling you this because I know you will keep your mouth shut, and that I have had enough of your endless pestering!"

Akiah remembered the words fondly, and a small smile curved the tips of her lips. She knew Mother Nashwa had tried to throw her off her interest when she said she might become too much of a liability, however, the tactic of hers hadn't worked because she was still found observing the mansion from her usual spot on one of Masyaf's highest towers that was closest to the Creed's stronghold.

Now that she knew that the difference in their garments told of what rank each Assassin had, she started singling them out, placing them under different categories; Novice, Adequate, Skilled.

However, there was one that she simply couldn't place in any of the categories, and she had no choice but to place him in the _Unknown_ category. There was only one Assassin she had seen that carried such intricate and unique clothing, in contrast to his other brothers.

He was different, Akiah thought. He stood out from the crowds of the other Assassins.

She often found herself dwelling on who he was, and why he was so… _peculiar_. Why he was so distinctive compared to the others. But she never found an answer, no matter how many times she tried to figure it out.

The only thing Akiah knew… Was that she was officially taken by him. He had unknowingly captured her interest.

He was just so _alluring_. He was a mystery, a question, one that she was going to figure out one day. She was going to figure out _him. Why_ he was so enchanting, because really, some days it was just aggravating, having to watch him from a distance, never able to come any closer to unravel the mysteriousness. Or the fact that he just was so different - not to mention _deceptive_. Each and every time he entered the mansion differently. He never used the same entrance twice in a row, and neither did he follow a specific pattern. No other Assassin of the Creed had the behavior that he had.

She was taken out of her dwellings about the Creed and the mysterious Assassin when Mother Nashwa snapped her fingers in front of her, demanding her attention.

"Akiah! I have an errand for you to run for me today, on behalf of one of the Assassins. I know I have asked you only a handful times before, but will you be their informant for today? This letter here," she waved it in front of Akiah with her hand to pinpoint that she was referring to it before continuing, "-is from them and it is to be brought to a man named Faher. The letter is very important, the guards nor anyone else is to get their hands on it. Do you think you can do this confidently?" Mother Nashwa asked, her stern gaze meeting her own grey orbs.

"Yes, I can do it, I promise. I won't lose the letter. But if I may ask, Mother Nashwa, why do they want me to bring the letter to Faher if it's so important? Don't they have birds or the Assassins to do it for them?" There was a pause before the woman answered her question, then;

"They have their reasons. What they need is subtlety. If they send a bird the chance that it gets shot down is too great, while if they send an Assassin, it becomes obvious that the letter is important. They asked me if you were capable enough to perform this task, for it is very different compared to the other menial tasks they otherwise ask of you, however I have full faith in that you are. Do not prove me, or them, wrong, Akiah." Nashwa said. The woman then embraced her before shooing her off.

"Now, off you go! I have business that needs to be taken care off." The elderly woman said before she rose from her kneeling position as she clasped her hands together. Akiah smiled and then waved her goodbye before she herself rose and stepped outside.

She made an immediate left turn to where a ladder was placed, it leading up to the roof. She always took the path up to the roof this way if she was at the brothel. It was simply an easy and effective way. She wouldn't have to worry about any onlookers if she were to climb up, because it was off to the corner where no one usually looked.

She made quick work of the ladder, reaching the rooftop before proceeding to jog over to the next roof. She headed north, having to circle around the Poor District to reach the Middle District where Faher lived. He was living at the edge of the District too, and reaching his house via the rooftops was difficult were she to head strictly east. Mother Nashwa had informed her that he also had the Assassin Insignia etched into his house, which would make it easy for her to spot if she mapped the area from a nearby high tower. The Insignia was placed on the roof for safety reasons, no one would know of it unless they saw it from high altitude. Not even patrolling guards knew of its existence because they were never so far up.

The Creed had its devious ways.

Idly Akiah wondered to herself why his house had the Creed's Insignia on it. There was no other house besides the fortress that had the Insignia, for she had never seen one on her adventures across Masyaf's rooftops, which have been _plenty_.

 _'Maybe he is someone important to the Creed?'_ She thought further, her foot connecting with a ledge before she jumped to the connecting roof. It would make sense.

But then again, why couldn't any other Assassin drop the letter off? It did have the Insignia after all, and Faher might just see her as a threat if she were to come close. There was the chance he would draw a blade on her if she came unannounced without anything signifying her alliance to the Creed besides the letter. He might think she was a thief that stole it and conveniently knew where he lived.

She pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind, not wanting to think any more on the matter. She decidedly ignored the humming question of why and proceeded to jump another rooftop, grasping the edge and pulling herself up over it before rising and continuing her trip to Faher.

She came to a stop as she reached a roof that had too much distance to simply hop over. She glanced down towards the streets, watching the people shuffle through the crowds, going about their own business and picking up food or buying trinkets from the travel merchants. Her eyes then spotted something familiar, a thief, whom she even recognized from her thieving days, and he was at this very moment pickpocketing a poor pedestrian. He went by unnoticed, his hands now holding a newly acquired coin pouch, and Akiah smiled widely. She herself had once done what he did. It was quite a sight to see from another perspective the work of a thief and the process of stealing from the townsfolk.

She watched on for a few more moments before she let her eyes sweep around the area, further taking in her surroundings. She was looking for a familiar wooden ledge that she had used a couple times before to cross the gap and upon finding it, her smile widened.

 _'There you are, my beloved wooden ledge.'_ Ironically, it was the same ledge she had escaped up onto when the guards had been chasing her nine months and a week ago. That she would come to use it for another reason than just huddling on it to hide was an irony that certainly wasn't lost on her. Rather, she almost laughed at the whole predicament. The tides had definitely changed when she rescued the two courtesans, who she now knew by name were Lilliana and Gwyneth. They were her two best friends back at the Nightshade brothel. They were close to her age as well, Lilliana being 19 and Gwyneth 22. She herself was at the age of 17, so there wasn't too big of an age gap. Either way, their friendship was strong, and she saw them more as her two sisters than her best friends.

She moved over to the ledge and jumped onto it from the edge of the roof, her feet landing onto it with a dull thud before walking across it. She grabbed onto the alcove situated shorty above her height and pulled herself up to it. She quickly scaled the rest of the wall, pushing off from the last stepping stone that sat etched into the wall and clamber over the edge.

However, just as she rose from her position and dusted herself off and glanced back behind her, her eyes caught the blur of something eerily familiar, the blur bearing white clothing.

Wait, _white clothing?_

Her eyes widened at the newly discovered anomaly and a zing of fear shot up her spine. Why was there an Assassin in the Middle District, not to mention nearby _her_?

She tried putting it off that the Assassin was just heading in her direction for one of his own missions, but that thought quickly dissipated when the Assassin continued his path straight towards her.

According to his body language, he seemed to have no plans of changing direction, and with each passing second, his quick moving form wasn't stopping or diverting from its path towards her. In reaction to the observation, her heart started beating rapidly and she snapped her head back to her front, her feet digging up dirt and sand as they picked up pace. She bounded over to the connected rooftop and flew over it, taking the two meter jump almost with ease. She was running in a much faster pace than before, as if a fire was lit under her feet. It felt as so, because having a _trained Assassin_ following after wasn't the best feeling in the world - in fact, it was quite terrifying because they were dangerous, and extremely _deadly._

And now she was being pursued by one.

It was just her luck.

Her breaths were inhaled and exhaled just as quickly, her chest pounding from the beating of her heart. She didn't dare to look back to see where the Assassin was at, for if she did, she would most likely be caught.

Akiah turned to the left, deciding on trying to feint him by jumping from out of view. Hopefully he would think she jumped to the ledge beneath when in fact she just jumped right into the crowd of walking pedestrians. Her burgundy hood was up, so the Assassin wouldn't be able to identify her by her hair, the wavy brown locks hidden completely from view.

She landed with an _'oomph'_ on the dirt-packed floor and she slowed her pace to that of the by passers, mixing in with the crowd. She turned to the closest alleyway in the hope of finally having shaken him off but just as she turned the corner, she clashed into something solid and she landed on her hide from the surprise impact, a groan escaping her mouth.

The letter in her outer tunic fell to the floor unnoticed, and the thing she crashed into suddenly made a noise, a hoarse and evil sounding noise, which had her quickly snapping her eyes open, them having shut with the fall. The solid object she had crashed into was a _man_ , dressed in thick robes with a black sash tied around his middle. But the most alarming about the whole picture was the _knife_ he held in his right hand, his other hand occupied with holding the letter.

 _Her letter._

She was going to need that back, but she didn't know how. How was she supposed to fight someone holding a _knife_ at her? She had no weapons to counter with, and even if she did, _how was she supposed to use it?_

She swallowed the quickly forming lump in her throat, trying to calm down her heart and shake off the feelings of fear and despair.

The hoarse evil cackling sounded once again, and Akiah inwardly winced at the horrifying sound. It was as if someone was dying from huge amounts of pain rather than someone _laughing._

 _'Horrid.'_ She thought, a grimace contorting her facial futures.

"Thanks for the letter, _dearie!_ I would say you can be off now, but no, sadly not. I'm not done with my business yet, witch unfortunately for you _,_ dearie, includes _you!"_ The man suddenly spoke, and his voice was just like his laugh – twisted and ugly and just outward _dying_.

But she wasn't focused on that. Her mind was mulling over the words he had uttered, and from what she could recall through the veil of fear clouding her mind, was that he had business with her personally, and not just the letter.

It didn't bode well. She wished desperately that she was caught by the Assassin instead of this… _creep_ that was standing before her.

 _'Please, can't that Assassin show up? I hope you saw through my trick, please, please…'_ She pleaded inwardly as she rose from her position on the floor, her feet backing away a couple of steps from the rather insane man. She was still going to need that letter back to deliver to Fahed. Her eyes observed her surroundings, trying to find something she could use as a weapon. Her eyes landed on a stone, almost as big as her fist, and she quickly picked it up, holding it poised. The man before her lifted his eyebrows when seeing her picking up the stone, and he had a toothy grin stretched across his twisted facial futures.

"Well well, seems the little girl is going to try to fight me. Hush, there's no need for that. I will simply relieve Nasja'h of her burden, and terminate you. Doesn't that sound like a good plan? It does to me, dearie!" He cackled. Akiah however, was completely taken by surprise when he mentioned Mother Nasja'h. Did he know of her job? _How?_ How did he knew of her errands?

Apparently, those questions had been written across her face, because the man soon spoke once again.

"Oh dearie, of course I know about your little job, of how you run those errands for the old and withering whore. I even know of your meddling Assassin friends. Hidden as they say they are, they cannot escape my sight! I see and know everything, knowledge is power, don't you know?" His inane wording threw Akiah off, and she had no clue how to comprehend the whole situation. This… this man knew of everything, about the Nightshade's hidden cooperation with the Creed, and what they did.

It was scary of how he knew, for in her mind, he only looked like a raving mad lunatic, someone incapable of such knowledge.

"How-How do you know?" She questioned, even though she knew it was better to keep her mouth shut. But she had to ask, if only to distract him so she could throw the stone and hit him in his sacred place…

"How I know, little girl? A magician never reveals his tricks, so I shan't do so myself. Now, enough chit-chatting!" He suddenly came at her with his knife and she quickly ducked out of the way, throwing herself against one of the alley walls, pressing herself against it as the man stumbled from his miss. She saw the opportunity to whack her stone, and she hit him in the back. He let out a grunt and almost lost his balance, something she had desperately hoped for, however he managed to catch himself just in time. Now completely weaponless, Akiah could only stumble backwards, her eyes full of terror.

"End is close for you, dearie!" The madman hissed, his crooked smile and narrowed eyes staring right at her.

Just as she was thinking she was done for, a flash of white suddenly descended from above, landing right on top of the insane man. She could hear the crack of bone and then a gurgle, and she knew he was most likely dead, or dying. She slightly winced at the sounds.

Her panicked heart started to settle down now that the madman was dead, although her breathing was still erratic, the breaths coming out rapidly. The white-robed stranger before her rose from his hunched over position over the man and then slowly turned towards her.

Akiah's next breath never came through because she hitched on it, the air only reach halfway through her throat. The man before her, was none other but the Assassin she had only seen less than handful of times. She could even count them on a five digit hand. Nevertheless, it was _him._

Her eyes took in his decorative garbs; the large red sash wound around his middle, complied with a highly intricate leather belt with a sword's sheath hanging off of it. She saw the wide array of weaponry on his form, the throwing knives, the short sword. Her eyes wandered up to his hooded face, and she noticed how even the peak of his hood too was highly decorated with intricate patterns, just like his leather belt. However, she couldn't take in much of his facial futures, for he was shrouded within the shadows. And his hood helped keeping his identity a secret. The only thing she could see for sure was the straight bridge of his nose, his stern mouth, which had a white scar running across it on his right side, and his strong chin.

Submerged in the shadows, he gave off an aura of danger, tipped with a secretive and ominous vibe. She certainly was feeling on-edge within his presence. He was as mysterious as she sought him out to be, and he held himself with an air of authority. She swallowed carefully, her back straightening from her half-crouch. Her eyes glanced behind him, trying to spot the letter before her eyes quickly settled on him once again, not wanting to let him out of her sight. Even though the brothel that was her home worked for the Assassins, she rarely ever came into contact with one, and if she did, it was only for short moments. She had never actually been this close, especially not to someone as _deadly_ as _him._

She had to force away the feeling of wanting to flee. To her, he was predator, and she was nothing but his prey, standing in the way.

She kept her alert eyes trained on him, and so when he slowly brought his hand up, she instinctively flinched back, slightly started. The motion of his hand came to a stop, as if he was determining whether or not she would just jump the wall then and there and be gone if he continued his movement, however whatever his thoughts were, they seemed to be disregarded as he continued to move his hand once again, it coming to a stop when fully outstretched. It wasn't until then that she saw he was holding the yellow letter in his hand, and she felt a strong urge to slap herself for not seeing it earlier. He probably thought her a halfwit now.

The worst first impression that could ever be made. Especially to _him,_ who she almost begrudgingly found a certain interest in. She didn't exactly understand why, but something about him intrigued her. Perhaps it was his uniqueness, or the fact that he was so deadly that it pulled her in, wanting to test his limits.

Anyone would find her a fully-fledged dimwit for wanting to provoke an _Assassin_ , but the danger of life was something she had grown up and lived with for a big part of her life. Maybe she for once wanted to know where the limits went, and those could only be tested by going up against dangerous things, dangerous and _deadly,_ just like the Assassin before her.

She brought a cautious hand forward, grabbing ahold of the corner of the letter, and when he deemed her having a good grip on it, he let go.

She brought the letter close to her, pressing it to her chest as her eyes searched for his, even though they were shrouded and hidden from view of his hood. She felt that she had to say something, anything, for she surprisingly didn't want him to go. She found herself wanting to meet him again.

"What-what is your name?" She whispered, not daring to speak louder, fearing that others would hear, or that he would simply turn and leave if he thought she was trying to befriend him.

Which she probably was trying to do, in a way.

But her question was only met with silence, the Assassin before her remaining silent, and her gaze turned disappointed. She shifted her eyes away from him to the dirt floor, a silent sigh escaping her. Of course he wouldn't answer her.

But after a moment's silence, she noticed movement in her peripherals. She saw the white-garbed Assassin reach for something behind his belt, and when he found it and plucked it out, her eyes widened. He was holding the feather of an Eagle, its coloring pure white, just like his robes.

It brought forth a long forgotten memory, one she had thought would forever stay lost.

 _She saw a feather delicately float through the air, it landing just below her feet. She slowly crouched down, afraid of stirring the air and it'd blow away. Her small hand reached out and picked the intricate feather up, its white surface speckled with flecks of brown. She had run all the way home, the feather clasped tightly in her hand, and barged through the door, calling out to her Father._

 _"Father, Father! Look what I found!" She took the steps two and two before turning to the right, hastily running into her Father's study._

 _"Easy, child, what is it?" His deep baritone voice called for calmness, and her excited jumping slowly diminished, soon enough coming to a stop._

 _"A feather, Father, it looks so beautiful!" Her Father had then waved her over, and she quickly walked to his hunched over form at his desk, bringing the feather out for him to look at. She saw a smile slowly form onto his lips when he picked the feather up, lifting it up into the sunlight as he inspected it carefully._

 _"Your life has been blessed with luck, child, for this is no ordinary feather. This feather comes from an Eagle, a strong and proud bird of prey. Keep it with you, Akiah, it may become important one day." He had said. She didn't understand the riddle of words he gave as a reply, and so she asked further, rather blatantly too, why it would give her luck, opting for the simplified version, her young mind not truly comprehending his words as they were._

 _"But father, how does it give me luck? It is only a feather?" Her father had then chuckled, a rueful smile gracing his lips as his grey eyes crinkled._

 _"Ah but luck takes on many different forms, Akiah. It may be just a feather, but the feather itself comes from an Eagle. An Eagle might come and fend or warn off any danger coming your way one day. It is a matter of how you perceive things, dear. They may not always be what they seem to be."_

 _'Luck takes on many different forms….'_ She thought, and her brow slightly tilted downwards, her eyes slowly shifting over to the Assassin before her. His words were starting to make at least somewhat sense, for she seemed to be onto something, however she still had a long way to go to truly come to an understanding on what her Father had meant.

The feather the Assassin had brought forth was held towards her, the tip pointed in her direction. Her eyes went up to his, even though they were hidden beneath the peak of his hood. She silently asked just with her gaze if the feather was really meant for her, and upon seeing a small nod of his head, it indicated towards the feather, she reached out and took the feather within her grasp. She repeated the same motion that she had with the letter, as she carefully clasped it to her chest.

The Assassin then took a step back, and she took it as her queue to leave. Just as him, she had her own mission to complete. She stashed both the feather and the letter within her outer tunic, and she turned to the wall next to her. There was a stepping-stone sticking out, and she used it as leverage to heave herself on top of the alley wall before scaling the rest of the wall up to the roof, all the while the Assassin watched on, his hooded gaze curious. One of his brows arched upwards, intrigued of how the girl scaled the wall just like he and his brothers. Never mind that she was a woman, too. However, he soon disappeared as well, continuing on with his own mission, the alley now empty of its two occupants.

She would never come to know that the feather would hold so much value until fate played its course, nor that her Father's words were much more important than she originally believed them to be.


	2. Chapter 2

_~ An Eagle's Path ~_

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Chapter two is now here! I bet you've been waiting for it, and trust me, I've wanted to publish it but I had to revise it a couple times as some parts just didn't add up to the rest of the plot. But regardless, it's now here!

I want to give a shout-out to those that have reviewed, favved and followed, because it really fuels me seeing that people actually seem to find interest in this story even though there's only one chapter. Although, a pretty _lenthy_ chapter, haha.

To the reviewers!

 **Here Forever -** The feathers are the ground components for the chapters, so it's nice to see you notice that it's been baked into the chapter! Hopefully this chapter is up to your expectations!

 **ThatGirl -** Thank you!

 **ll9 -** Here you go, a new chapter!

* * *

 **Chapter Two – _Feather's Descent_**

Akiah received nothing but silence when she knocked on Faher's door. Only the echoes of the knocks could be heard, all else was just… quiet. There were no footsteps, and no sound of anyone tripping over something to reach the door.

There was quite literally _nothing_ that could be heard after her knock, excluding its own echoes.

Akiah furrowed her brow in confusion at the discovered notion - wasn't Faher supposed to be home today? Had Nashwa misinformed her? Or perhaps it was none of those options… Perhaps the reason behind the unanswered knocks was because the man was intentionally ignoring them?

Her brow tilted downwards, forming the shape of a v. She felt aggravation rising within her at the man's rude, not to mention _non-existent_ , manners. Believing in a second try, she quickly rapped on his door again, a staccato of three knocks, before lowering her hand to its previous position, although her fist remained clenched.

Inside her head she was mulling over the many possibilities. He couldn't be out on errands, for the markets were soon closing, also it'd be a bit _too_ convenient. Besides, Nashwa had told her that he would be in, and she trusted her adoptive mother's information.

Which meant there were two other plausible options; either he was ignoring her, or he simply hadn't heard the first time she knocked.

Although she was sure of which option held the most truth.

Unless they sent her without including the fact that he might just be deaf, but that'd also be a little bit too convenient.

' _Aggravating man…'_ She grumbled to herself in her thoughts.

The results of her second knock were just the same as the first time; silence. No longer able to contain her apparent irritation and ever growing dislike for having accepted this mission in the first place, she made a sound of frustration. It seemed she had to get into his house the hard way, since she couldn't just leave the letter on his doorstep. It was too risky, and not to mention that she had almost actually _died_ because of the mission. If it wasn't for the Assassin that came to her rescue at just the right time she would've ended up as target practice for the madman's knife. Which provided her with enough motivation to see the mission _fully_ through.

' _He never told me his name… And what he was doing in this District…'_ Akiah thought to herself as the white-robed Assassin popped into her mind. Her hand consciously sought out the feather that was tucked safely inside her outer tunic, her fingers idly stroking the soft material of it. A small smile formed onto her lips and she shook her head. He was the mystery she had made him up to be, but it was just so much more surreal when up-close, she hadn't expected it. Her smile never diminished but with a last stroke onto the feather, Akiah tossed the thoughts away to the back of her mind to think on later, and she stepped away from the man's door.

It was clear that he wouldn't open up and greet her like any other individual would've done.

She rounded the corner back to where she had climbed down to climb back up the same way to get onto the roof once again. If he wasn't get to let her in, she was simply going to _let herself_ in. She wasn't going to let something as simple as a grouchy man and his wooden door hinder her from completing her assigned mission.

Especially not a mission the Creed had given her.

She climbed on top of the barrels standing next to his house, using them as leverage to reach the windowsill so she could pull herself up to stand on its edge before scaling the remaining part of the wall. She heaved herself up over to the top and rose, dusting the dirt that had accumulated onto her tunic from pressing her torso to the edge in order to hoist herself onto the roof, before walking over to the lattice roof that Faher had. It was quite convenient, seeing that it made her entrance into his house much easier than having to pry open one of his windows, or in worst case scenario, kick it – or a wall – in to speak to the grouchy man.

She figured he would be grouchy, since he decidedly ignored her knocking on his front door.

When she reached the lattice roof, she carefully glanced down, her eyes narrowed and alert, trying to find any type of movement, or maybe even Faher himself in the area that was visible from her spot on the top of the building.

She didn't see anything out of order, she only saw his house decorations, which were actually quite… _fitting_ , even _nicely so_ \- to her surprise. The man seemingly made up for his rude manners with his fashion sense, which had her laughing quietly to herself, because she would've never pegged a man to have any sort of fashion sense, especially not _this_ man, but here she was, looking upon evidence that contradicted her assumption.

The irony was brutal.

Deciding that it looked safe enough, Akiah flipped herself over the edge and grasped the top edge of the holes of the lattice wall before slowly making her way down. She was careful with how she placed her feet, maneuvering her toes into the small holes and making sure she was steady enough to continue to the lower bars of the lattice wall, repeating the same cautious motion of placing the toes of her feet into them and press down to keep steady. It was a gruesome progress, for she wasn't used to climbing these kind of walls, especially if she had to go downwards.

She finally reached the bottom of what felt like an hour later but really only was a few minutes, her feet landing on the wooden boards with a dull thud.

She was thankful for not having slipped on her climb down. She wasn't the most enthusiastic fan of collecting bruises.

Those she had were more than enough, the purple, yellow and green tints scattered over her body like she was one of Faher's colourful paintings that hung on his walls.

Her eyes swept over the area of the room she currently was in, a crease on her brow. She was sure that he would have to be here somewhere, but the question was _where._

The house sounded eerily quiet, and a shiver ran down her spine. It just seemed so empty, and it was almost too silent. She took a few steps backwards till she felt her back connect with the wall behind, and she pressed herself against it. Waiting a few more seconds, eyes alert and shifting into different directions to find any source of movement, she decided that she would simply call out to him instead rather than patrol inside his house - that for the record was unknown territory. She had no idea how the rest of his house besides the current room looked like.

"Faher…! I have a letter for you from the Creed. Step out of the shadows!" She called. She swallowed down the fluttering of nerves and swept her eyes over the room once again. Her body was tense as she waited from him to emerge.

Just as she was losing hope she suddenly heard a _thwack_ , and purely by instinct, she quickly crouched and rolled to the side, landing in a pile of stacked pillows that was off to the side. Her head shot up from underneath the pile, her brown locks following in momentum with the motion, and she glanced over at the wall she had just previously been at, all the while her heart was thumping in symphony with her heaving chest. There was a _throwing knife_ embedded into the wall, inches above where her head had been.

"Had I not aimed higher than your head, your reaction would have been too slow. Now tell me girl, why are you intruding in my house?" Came a raspy voice from the left, and her head snapped to the direction of the voice. Her movements of pushing the pillows off her stilled, her slightly widened eyes searching within the shadows of the adjoining room, the open archway leading into it giving plentiful view for her eyes to search.

But Akiah found nothing.

Now this was the part of the mission she had feared, and one she had partially suspected would happen. How was she going to convince Faher that she was in alliance with the Creed? Not to mention that she wasn't lying, but actually telling the truth?

Her grey orbs shifted to the corner of her eyes to glance at the knife stuck into the wall. She rather not end up having one lodged into her body like the wall had unfortunately become victim to. It looked painful, half of the knife embedded into the material of the sturdy wall. If it went so far into that hard material, how far would it go into her with the same force?

She preferred to remain unknowing.

"I'm not an Assassin, but I'm not your enemy either. Mother Nashwa sent me as one of the Creed's informants to deliver a letter to you." She said slowly, her mouth feeling parched at the suspension. She had to be careful with what she said, or in the next second the wall wouldn't be the only victim.

She reached into her outer tunic with one of her hands before grasping onto the letter and sweeping it out from under the fabric. Her motions were controlled and slow as to reassure Faher that she wasn't pulling a weapon on him. That would be the _last_ thing she would do, both figuratively and literally.

She held the yellow letter with the Creed Insignia stamped onto the wax seal openly in her hands she it was fully visible for him to see.

"This letter is for you from the Creed." Akiah continued, her hand lifted the letter slightly higher to pinpoint that she was referring to it. There were a few moments of tense silence, before the raspy voice of Faher spoke.

"That may be so girl, however you have yet to answer me why you trespass onto my property without my acceptance." Came his only reply, and Akiah almost had the mind to scowl. Had she not just answered his question? She had a letter for him, what else was he seeking?

"You did not open the door when I knocked, so I had to find another way in." She answered, her brow quirking as her eyes slightly narrowed. What was he getting at with his riddled words?

"It might have not suggested to you that I did not wish for anyone to come into my house?" Akiah blinked once, then twice.

' _So that's what he wanted to say, that I am unwelcomed.'_

"As much as you not knowing of my purpose of knocking on your door in the first place." She then replied, a sarcastic rebuke singularly worded for the sake of countering Faher's own words.

Was she not supposed to be careful with what she said?

It seemed to be a little too late to revert back onto the path of caution, as her words had already been uttered. However, she couldn't refrain from acting upon the prickling feelings of anger within in her, for she was born with a fiery temper – a temper that no woman was supposed to have. Also, she unfortunately was born with the trait of passionately disliking when others doubted her, which was _exactly_ what the man hidden in the shadows before her was doing.

It was aggravating, at the least.

"Do not play smart with me _girl!_ Why would they send a girl such as you to do an Assassin's duty?" Faher questioned rather rapidly, his gravel voice now laced with irritation. Most likely because she was brave, or stupid, if Faher had a say in the matter, enough to mouth back at him, which was quite contradicting to the painted image of a typical woman. But she simply had the tendency of letting her mouth speak for itself when provoked, like most men.

Some might actually call it foot-in-mouth disease, however she preferred to call it her opinion speaking. The only problem with it all, was that it came out unfiltered most of the time, the words not thoughtfully formulated to please those who listen. And unfortunately, those people also tended to easily get offended if she didn't sugarcoat her words, which explained why she got into trouble more often than not – simply because people accused her for being crude when in reality she was just being truthful.

' _The truth can be just as harsh as a blade, but somehow this evades them…'_

There was also the matter that she was a _woman_ , a rather _rebellious_ woman, at that. Compared to the other women of Masyaf, she had more similarities with the men than with the women – which made her different.

But it was because she just couldn't act the role of a shy, innocent and quiet woman like most other women were expected to behave. She wasn't born to fulfil that role, and she would never find herself molding to it either. She would rather stay being the rebellious woman that she was, regardless of the amount of trouble she would most likely land herself in.

Even though her irritation towards Faher was ever-growing, she actually came to agree with his uttered question - why _hadn't_ they sent an actual Assassin to deliver the letter instead of her?

The only answers she received when she asked was that it was too risky, and that it would be too obvious.

That was what they had said.

Well, her _behind_ that it was too risky and too obvious!

From what she had seen, Assassins were the very definition of the term _subtle,_ meaning there simply shouldn't be an issue, even though there apparently was.

It would have been so much simpler had they sent an Assassin instead of her! Not to mention that the outcome would've been _very_ different as well. She wouldn't have had to risk her life like this, for the _second time,_ might she add.

And there was still the matter that she had to convince him somehow of her alliance to the Creed, _without_ dying, preferably.

' _Why me?'_ She silently muttered to herself.

"I can't answer your question on why they chose to go with this decision. All I know is what Mother Nashwa told me, and she said that sending an Assassin would be too much of a risk, one the Creed apparently doesn't want to take, else I wouldn't be here." Akiah replied. She was doing her best to keep the irritation away from her voice, however it was proving to be a difficult task. Inwardly, she knew she was currently signing her own death warrant with the way she was speaking to him, but she couldn't help herself, it was second nature for her to rebuke, and her mood was extra testy at the moment - because this mission was turning out to be a bite in the sour apple, which in other words translated to _execrable._

There was no answer from the man for some time, the silence ominously settling over the two. Idly she sat on the pile of cushions, the letter still held in the air in her palm.

Her arm was getting tired from holding it up for so long, the muscles starting to shake, but she refused to give in and let it sink to her side. She wasn't going to show herself weak in front of Faher, lest she would receive more spiteful comments from him.

She wasn't in need of such commentary, especially not from the man whom she was currently conversing with.

"It seems the Creed are taking new safety measurements then, if they think sending an untrained girl is a wise decision. Perhaps you should have some form of basic training at least, if you are to continue being their informant. Otherwise you run just as big a risk as them in sending an Assassin here." The man suddenly suggested, his voice neither mocking nor kind.

It was quite an unexpected turn of events, and a surprising one. She was actually unsure how to react to the sudden change.

Akiah's eyes flew open in surprise and disbelief upon hearing his proposal. Did he mean for her to become part of the Creed? To _train_ with them, and become one of them in time? Would it even be _possible?_

' _But why?'_

The rather absurd idea had her mind going haywire, her thoughts divided between thinking that he had gone insane, or that his preposition was sounding more interesting for every passing second. Within her, she felt the longing grow, the need and the desire and the will to finally be able to become part of something as amazing as the Creed. It was as if someone had unlocked a door she hadn't known existed that gave her the chance to choose an entirely different path in life than the one she was currently walking. She just had to grab ahold of the opportunity and open the door.

The rush of the many emotions was soon quenched however, when reality came tapping on the figurative door. It reminded her of the unchangeable fact that she was a _woman_. There was little chance that they would accept her into their ranks. And even if she had been a man, the remaining fact that she was 17 meant she was also too old to join.

The reality check had Akiah falter, and her eyes lost the hopeful glimmer they had merely seconds ago. She pushed the thoughts away to the back of her mind to think and mull them over later, when the whole ordeal with Faher was done and dealt with. She needed to be alone with just herself.

Speaking of, her attention suddenly returned to reality, her eyes unfocusedly blinking as they were ridding of the blurring that was in her eyesight.

Once it cleared up however, she wasn't met with the same scenery she last had seen.

Right in front of her stood a tall and muscular man, clad in grey robes. Just like the other Assassins she had studied, he too had a leather belt around him, along with a red sash and a wide array of weaponry, however his hood was down and she could freely study and observe his facial futures.

Faher had a greying beard, one he must've grown for some time for it was quite long, the curly hairs bunched up together in pairs and exceeding the jaw by three fingers' width. She furthered her scrutiny, her eyes sweeping over his face as if she was trying to memorize every detail, although she wasn't, she was simply being observant.

His nose was crafty but straight, along with a strong and wide jaw. However, what captivated her most was his glimmering hazel eyes. They looked as if they had seen centuries' worth of life, for they appeared so wise and knowledgeable. There was the myth she had heard about once, that some souls never transcended, that they just continued to rebirth. They were called _old souls_ by the people, for they are said to contain years upon years of experience.

His eyes seemed to be guarded as well, upon further study, however, they were open and quite readable at the same time – as if Faher only let his eyes show what he wanted others to see. She noticed that his eyes also had crows' feet at their edges, the gentle wrinkles and folds crinkling in movement of his eyes.

Her own eyes widened a fraction at the discovery, and a sinking feeling in her stomach appeared – for a second or two, she thought she saw her _Father's eyes_ , and not Faher's. Her breath hitched in her throat, and she had to forcefully inhale another deep breath to compensate for the lack of air going down. She ignored how her heart wrenched in pain, the upbringing of her memory of her Father a painful one.

Her grey orbs left his hazel ones and instead swept over his hair, which matched the colour of his beard, the greying strands containing a few slivers of white.

Akiah then proceeded to rise slowly from her position after finishing her observations, albeit carefully in order to avoid crinkling the letter that she was holding in her left hand.

"I'm a woman," she said, a breath of hopelessness escaping her before she continued.

"- there is little chance they would accept me into their Creed. But here, your letter, Faher." Akiah brought the letter up once again when within close proximity, presenting it to him so he would take it.

The man before her eyed her warily, his head slightly cocking to his side as his arms untangled from his back before slowly reaching out and grasping the letter. In silence he ripped the waxed seal and unfolded the letter, reading the contents within. She heard him hum a couple of times before he brought the letter down. He stroked his beard idly, as if he was contemplating something. Akiah shifted lightly on her feet, unsure of what was to come.

"Well then, you safely managed to bring the letter here, and you even found my house. That requires some skill. Perhaps you should ask to have an audience with Al Mualim, I could bring a few words of suggestion. Whether or not you are a woman, it should not matter, for it is the will and the passion in wanting to learn that determines if you are worthy of becoming part of the Creed." Faher said. His eyes then settled onto hers, locking her striking grey eyes with his knowledgeable hazel orbs. A silent gasp slipped past her lips, and her brow slightly furrowed at his words.

Al Mualim? And that the possibility of her actually becoming part of the Creed was viable? It was overwhelming information to grasp, and she found herself having difficulty in accepting it.

"In other words, it doesn't matter that I'm a female? And this… Al Mualim, he is the Creed's leader I take it? How am I supposed to ask an audience with him?" Came her inquiry then. She was unsure of asking these questions, for it was akin to threading on thin ice, or rather, threading on creaky floor boards in the middle of night with the worry of possibly waking someone, especially if she was an _uninvited guest._ The feeling was causing her stomach to do strange flips.

Faher pulled his gaze from her, instead opting to inspect the letter she had given him.

"Al Mualim is the Master of Assassins. To seek an audience with him, you must either approach his Master Assassin or approach him himself. However, it is forbidden for strangers to enter the fortress alone, so you have to figure that out for yourself. I can only help you so much, the rest is up to you. I will give you a letter with a few words of mine before you depart to bring with you if you succeed in finding an audience with Al Mualim." And with that, he turned on his heel and headed back into the room which he emerged from.

He soon returned with a parchment clasped in his hands, and he held it out for Akiah to take. With the parchment now in hand, she nodded to Faher, thanking him for his help. They had perhaps come off the wrong foot in the beginning, because she felt he was actually a rather genuine person, but with a brutal sense of speaking his opinion. Although, she supposed she was the same. Everyone has their flaws.

"Thank you, Faher, I'll make sure to bring this to Al Mualim when I manage to get an audience with him." She said, a small smile curving the tips of her lips.

"Do not think it is an easy task child, it is much more difficult than you might think." And with those words, he waved her off. Before disappearing, he walked over and pulled out the knife that had sunk into the wall where he had thrown it, re-sheathing it into his belt and then exiting the room, saying nothing else. He left Akiah to climb the lattice wall alone.

The girls' head was still slightly spinning in confusion from Faher's preposition of her possibly joining the Creed, and she just stood still for a few seconds to calm her heart that was beating from excitement. Once recomposed enough, she slowly and carefully began scaling the wall to reach the rooftop once again.

While climbing, Akiah thought back on the moment that had happened merely a minute ago. She knew that it would most likely take her a few days to truly come to terms with the fact that she now had a new way of life available to her, a new life that didn't involve her following the path of a thief any longer. But she had received a fair warning… It wouldn't be a simple path if she chose to walk it, but then again, when had her life really been simple?

Within an hour and a half did she return to the Nightshade brothel. She jumped down from the roof before heading over to the stairs of the building to enter through the open doors. The courtesan standing in the entrance behind the desk greeted her with a wave and a smile, one which Akiah returned. She asked for where Nashwa was, and the woman pointed to the set of stairs located to her right. She thanked her and jogged up the stairs. She wanted to tell her adoptive mother of Faher's surprising proposal of her possibly joining the Creed.

She found her adoptive mother sitting at a desk, shuffling through a few papers that were stacked on the wooden structure. Akiah observed that some were stamped with the seal of the Creed, and she wondered if those were meant for her to deliver, or if they were meant for the occasional Assassins that dropped in.

"I have returned!" She exclaimed, her feet quickly swallowing the distance between the doorway and the desk. The aforementioned woman's head suddenly snapped up to the direction of her voice, her facials contorted into one of surprise, but upon laying her eyes on Akiah, a smile spread across her painted red lips.

"Ah, Akiah, you returned in one piece! I knew you could be trusted with delivering the letter. Did you meet any trouble on your way?"

Akiah silently contemplated whether she should tell her of the madman she had met, and of the Assassin that came to her rescue when she thought she was done for. But in the end, she opted for keeping quiet. It would only stress the woman if she were to tell her of the happening, and not to mention that she might be forbidden to continue running errands for the Creed for probably a month or two until it calmed down.

She absolutely dreaded the idea of having to be cooped up inside the house, not being able to go out. The only sounds she would hear would be the giggling of the courtesans and the escalating moans and grunts of the deeds happening in the rooms of the building.

She almost blanched at the vivid imagery that came through her mind and she quickly snuffed the thoughts. She would not think further on those matters, lest she go insane.

"No, there was no trouble on my way to Faher." She reassured the woman, before continuing.

"How's business been going today?" She asked, as she settled on the stool that stood off to the side of the desk. Mother Nashwa brought the papers she had been holding down onto the desk before turning her attention towards her daughter.

"It has been going good today, dear. I believe Lilliana and Gwyneth are free this afternoon if you wish to spend time with them." A small knowing smile formed upon the scarlet lips of her mother, and Akiah returned the smile, albeit sheepishly. Nashwa always knew to read in between the lines whenever they held a conversation, for she knew she was really asking about whether or not her two best friends were free.

"You always know what I really want to ask." Akiah replied, and Nashwa let out a small laugh.

"Of course I do, I know you too well. But I believe you have something else to tell me as well, else you would not have come barging in here like a wild beast."

"Was I that obvious?" A slightly stunned facial expression overtook Akiah's features.

"Yes, yes you were."

"Ah-fine." She grumbled but her smile soon returned anyway, the corner of her lips curving upwards. She brought out the parchment that she received from Faher.

"Faher told me some things… He said I could join the Creed if I manage to get an audience with Al Mualim, who is the Creed's leader. I actually kind of like the idea…" Her words ended, as she settled for watching her mother's reaction to what she had said. The woman was in deep thought, and Akiah believed she would receive a strict 'no'.

' _Well, that plan went south…'_

"I thought this day might come. You have always held such an interest towards the Assassin's Creed. I haven't been able to hinder you before, do you truly believe I would manage to do so now?" The woman replied, and a huge smile then cracked the uneasy mask Akiah had. That wasn't a no she received, she was actually being _approved_ to join them - if she managed, that is.

"No, you haven't… And no, I was going to pursue it either way, I just wanted you to know of it. That's why I told you." Akiah said, a sly smirk twisting her lips. Nashwa just raised an eyebrow at her daughter's antics.

"Well of course, how kind of you." Came her mother's sarcastic reply. Both soon ended up laughing.

"You're the best, Mother Nashwa now wish me luck!" Akiah said before she rose from the stool and barreled down the stairs to start her planning of getting into the fortress. It was either that, or she had to find their Master Assassin, but she didn't know who it was.

"I will wish you no such thing!" She heard Nashwa call after her and Akiah just shook her head in amusement.

' _But I know you will, to yourself at least.'_

When evening came, Akiah was sitting at her usual spectator spot close to the Creed's fortress. She was scrutinizing and thinking of different ways that she could enter. She knew she wouldn't be able to scale the wall like some of the other Assassins, nor could she use the secret door because it was locked with a key. The only way she could get through the gates… Would be to cloak herself as a scholar.

But that might be a problem because of her height, and not to mention her gender. She was only five feet four. But perhaps… The scholars always walked with hunched backs, maybe she would be able to pull it off anyway? As for her gender… Most scholars had beards, she could possibly just borrow some of Mother Nashwa's goat fur and brush it into a rough-looking beard, before stitching one end of it to a small leather patch. That way, she could tie the ropes of the leather patch at the back of her head and it would sit perfectly without falling off.

An ingenious idea!

But the only problem with the plan would be to find a cloak similar to that of the scholar's.

' _I'll figure it out somehow… Maybe Lilliana has a white robed gown hidden somewhere…?'_

With that thought in mind, Akiah decided that her planning for today was enough. She headed back to the brothel, satisfaction overcoming her of how the day had gone, despite the adventurous events of the day. At least it differed from the monotony that had plagued her days for over two months, following the same repetitive cycle of waking up, clean the top floor bedrooms, run the necessary errands, go grocery shopping, head back home and sleep. In between she might have a talk and spend some time with Lilliana and Gwyneth, or she'd take her time to watch the grand Creed fortress, but besides such pastimes, nothing interesting happened.

Some days she would find herself mulling over the outcome of what could've happened had she not saved Lilliana and Gwyneth. If she hadn't come to their aid, would she still be a thief?

Probably.

She would've most likely been pickpocketing some poor sap right about now as evening was setting and they were tired and distracted. Either that, or she would retire to one of Masyaf's rooftops and simply watch the sun descend before she fell asleep. Those days always bore a question mark. She could never predict how it would end, not like she did today. Her schedule was as predictable as ever since she came to live at Mother Nashwa's house. Back in her days as thief, she ran the risk of getting apprehended by the guards and chased down. She actually found the chases somewhat exhilarating, at least since she acquired her skill of scaling the lower walls of Masyaf because of them. She was nowhere near professional level, but she at least knew her ways around. She always followed the same path and turned to the same alley to climb up. She had had her escape routes planned just in case she failed a theft.

She smiled ruefully at the remembrance of the old days. She could sometimes feel her old profession beckon, calling out to her to at least go steal _something,_ whether it be someone's flower pot or a baker's bread.

Suddenly an idea sparked within her mind, and her smiled widened. Perhaps she should go visit one of her old _'acquaintances'_ , the lonesome baker was probably missing the mischief she brought with her whenever she was nearby.

' _I should repay him for his 'good' deed, I don't think he'll mind.'_ And with that, she fell into a fitful sleep, her mind relishing in the ingenious idea. She was looking forward to tomorrow, easily so.

When next day came, she woke with the sun's rising. She let out a yawn and rubbed the tiredness out of her eyes before heading over to the basin to splash some cold water in her face to fully awaken. She dressed in her usual clothes; her tunic, undershirt and a pair of trousers. She dressed like a man, preferring them rather than the annoying dresses with their laces and several layers of tulle. They were far from flexible and she wouldn't be able to maneuver properly if she wore those pesky dresses. Mother Nashwa had tried to convince her once to wear a dress, but when she did, she kept stumbling and tripping over the edges. She said dresses made a woman ladylike, well, she was _far_ from ladylike wearing the constraining prison of a dress. From that day forth, she avoided dresses at all costs, opting for the male clothing instead.

Akiah, after having dressed, routinely made her bed, draping the sheets of the bed across the hay mattress before proceeding to grab the broom and brush out the top floor that she resided in. In sweeping gestures, she rid the wooden planks of the accumulated dirt of yesterday. The motions caused dust clouds to form, making it a harder task to clean the floor because she had to wait for the clouds to settle before she could sweep them away as well. It was a bit of a gruesome process, but Akiah had gotten used to it by now, having done so for nine months and a week straight. She put away the broom once done and then headed into the first room, gathering the sodden and tangled sheets in her arms and then throwing them down the staircase, the laundry room located on the first floor. Akiah did the same with the sheets of the other seven rooms, throwing them into the building pile below. She straightened out the objects that had been pushed off to the side and picked up those that were pushed down, before she placed new, clean sheets onto the rather comfortable-looking beds. Although she would never personally sleep in one of the brothel's beds, despite their comfortableness, for she knew _very_ well what went on behind the closed doors of those rooms. She still had nightmares of the shrieks of what sounded more like dying people than moaning.

Akiah quietly shuddered at the thoughts before she discarded them, pressing them far into her mind. The sounds were enough torture for her, she didn't have to think of the details, or even think on it at _all_ during her free time.

When the rooms had all been cleaned out, she headed downstairs to take care of the big pile of bedsheets, hefting the lump of clothing into her hands and kicking open the laundry room doors before dumping them on the floor, again. She took out the scented oils stacked in the cabinets to the left of the doors, before pouring the right amount into the water pool that was used to wash the big bedsheets. She then brought out the washboard and placed it in the low ridden pool, the edges barely half a meter, which made it much easier for her to reach. The sheets were quickly thrown in together with the two buckets of hot water that she had heated up when first came in with the sheets. Off to the side of the mini pool, she took the wooden staff that had been placed there and stirred the sheets with it as she stood on the broad edge.

She had learned the hard way to be careful when stirring the sheets, because she had fallen in one to many times from having being clumsy and distracted. Lilliana had once found her dripping wet one morning when she was up and about, having to go to the bathroom, and she laughed at how Akiah looked. Taking it as a challenge, Akiah had lifted one of her brows and the corner of her lips had tilted in a sly smirk. She called Lilliana over, _'asking'_ for help, and as the girl reached the edge, Akiah proceeded to drag her into the pool with her, the girl shrieking in surprise at suddenly having gotten all wet. Akiah just laughed at Lilliana's misery but it ended quickly when her face was met with dirty bedsheets, them making a wet sloppy _thunk_ at impact. Surprised, Akiah could only gape, but shut her mouth quickly when she found water running into her mouth. She disgustingly spitted the water out, not even wanting to know what had had been in that water. Only the occupants of the bedroom knew of what really was on those sheets.

"Ew, Lilliana, do you know what those sheets _have_ on them!?" Akiah called to her supposedly best friend as she wiped her face clean of excess water. She waddled over to the edge of the pool, wringing her tunic and undershirt of as much water as possible before she stepped out of the pool altogether, joining Lilliana who had already exited the pool.

"Yes, yes I do. I after all I _work_ in those sheets." Her friend had responded with a rather amusing grin occupying her lips.

"… You're the most terrible best friend I've ever had the _pleasure_ of befriending- oh, _and_ the most disgusting one. You should learn manners!" Akiah threw back, dropping the innuendo for humor's sake. The both just ended up laughing in the end, Lilliana running out of comebacks. Soon though, the girl had to leave, nature's call beckoning her to the bathroom as the cleaning duties called out to Akiah. She embraced her friend in a wet hug before she left, Akiah continuing with cleaning the sheets.

The memory had caused a smile to spread across her face, and Akiah let out a small laugh at the memory recall. She definitely had her fair share of adventures at the brothel. They might not happen every day, but when they did happen, it was much more invigorating than the adventures she partook in back in her thieving days.

She proceeded to rub the bedsheets on the washboard after having stirred them and gotten them completely soaked, before she wrung the sheets out and hung them on the lines going across the laundry room's ceiling. Deeming the cleaning duties done, she headed to the entrance of the brothel, announcing to the courtesan standing there that she was heading out. The girl said she would rely the message to Mother Nashwa so she wouldn't worry of where she had gone off to.

Now, she had her little friend to visit. He would probably be _very_ happy at seeing her again, she thought inwardly to herself.

Unbeknownst to her though, there was an early bird Assassin that spotted her leaving the brothel. He was slightly curious as to why she was up and about so early. Having no mission to complete at the time, he decided to follow the girl, wanting to see what exactly she was up to.

Akiah to her usual path up the ladder to the rooftop, and she walked across them until she reached the marketplace, which was already full of life. There were several merchants standing at their shops, some polishing their shiny trinkets while others fondled their vegetables, rearranging them in the hopes of bringing a customer to their stall.

She surveyed the marketplace, looking for a specific stand, and as her eyes landed on it, she smiled gleefully. Her fingers itched in anticipation. She headed to the opposite side of the marketplace so she came up right behind the baker's stand. She watched him standing there for a few moments before hopping down discreetly, landing on the crates. She looked over to see if his attention had been drawn to the noise she had made, which wasn't much but still, she was close enough for him to possibly have heard. However, luckily for her he hadn't, his mind probably distracted by the people milling about in front of him.

She sneaked up to his form before she crouched low, her eyes looking for something that might be of use in completing her plan. In her peripherals, she took notice of the strings of his breaches and a wicked smile spread across her face with the discovery. With very careful steps, she headed underneath his stand, crouched under the wooden structure.

She hoped her skills of being a thief were still with her as she brought her hands forward slowly. She grabbed ahold of the drawstrings of his breaches, and in very careful motions, she tied them to the end of the stall, it having a handle nailed into it to better grip it when it had to be moved. Having finishing the first part of her mission, she quickly exited from underneath and walked in a wide circle to stand opposite the stall from a distance. Akiah looked over to the right to see the guards lingering in their same spot underneath the trees.

They were in the spot she needed them to be.

' _Good, time for part two.'_

In very slow strides, she headed over to the baker's stand, all the while she pulled out a loaf of bread that she had in her bag slung across her shoulder. She held the loaf closer to her form, hiding it with the cloth of her bag so the baker wouldn't notice it. When she was within reach of the stand, she lingered near the edge, waiting for the moment when the baker would be too distracted from her presence.

She didn't have to wait long before a young woman approached his stand, intent on purchasing a bread piece, most likely for today's breakfast, Akiah silently thought. She took the opportune moment to place the loaf next to the other pieces of bread before she slung the bag on her shoulder once again. Walking away, doing the same wide half circle walk she did before, she once again approached the stall, this time with the purpose of buying a loaf of bread. She plastered a smile on her face, greeting the baker as she took to scrutinize the pieces of bread. And just to antagonize the man, she dragged her finger across a few of the newly baked loafs, before picking up the same loaf she had placed there merely minutes ago.

"I'd like this one." She said, her face still holding the fake smile. The baker of the stand held his hand out as he called the price of the bread, and she quickly placed two silver pieces in his hand. It was now show time for part three of her plan, and her smiled turned wicked once again.

Akiah broke the loaf in half, before breaking of a piece at the right place and then she took a bite. She had to ignore her throat's gag reflex when the unsavory taste of mold surrounded the cavity of her mouth as she chewed the bread piece a few times. Then she started to cough, all an act though - for the sake of the mission, as she also pretended to choke on the bread, her cheeks turning red from the coughing. The two broken pieces of the bread fell to the floor when she let them go, as she continued on making a show of choking on the bread. The people milling about were drawn to the spectacle she was causing, and they were now looking on worriedly upon hearing the sounds. A few of the women in the crowd actually came up to her to pat her on the back to help her, and Akiah then finally spit the acrid bread piece out, silently rejoicing in her mind at finally escaping the moldy taste of it.

"What is this!?" She then shrieked. Akiah went to pick the bread up, turning it to show the people surrounding her the mold that was on the bread. She saw how their eyes widened in disbelief and surprise before they turned accusing glares towards the baker.

"Are you trying to kill me!?" Akiah yelled, and her eyes swiveled over to the guards. She waved frantically at them to catch their attention.

"Guards! This baker here tried to poison me with his bread! Look at this, it's moldy and most definitely not fresh! He should be punished for his crimes of selling false produce to us!" Akiah called out to the guards, as she swept her hands at the crowd forming around her. The people cheered at her words, some lifting their clenched hands up into air, calling for justice.

' _This is how you start a riot, I hope you like the show, friend.'_ She thought to herself. The baker, having watched on as she caused a scene, turned an ugly shade of red at her accusations.

"What? No, this girl here is lying! My bread is freshly baked!" He protested. He was about to move from his position to stand in front of his stall, but he didn't come far as he suddenly stumbled forward, crashing into wooden structure of his stand. She heard the creak of the wood before it collapsed under the heavy weight of the baker, and she couldn't help but snicker at the sight.

"Arrest him!" Someone close to her called out, and the guards soon came rushing. She took the few seconds before the guards arrived to crouch down to the baker, her smile lopsided.

"Seems the tables have turned, quite literally I'd say. Remember that little girl you didn't bother to defend as the guards falsely accused her for theft, even though she paid for the loaf of bread she had in her hands? Remember her?" She asked in a hushed voice, her eyes locking onto his. She saw him frown in confusion before suddenly his eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

"Yes, that little girl- that is me. I hope you liked my little show, because I doubt you will be able to see one such as that in some time, since you will be sitting behind locked bars. This is what you get for having such low morals. Perhaps you learned something this time." And with those words, Akiah rose and left the scene, elbowing the people out of her way as she stormed off away from the scene.

The few seconds it took for her to escape the crowd, were enough seconds for her brain to process just what exactly she had done.

She wasn't prepared for the slew of overwhelming guilt to wash over her.

She honestly thought she would be happy from taking revenge, but instead… she only felt empty - _void_. Her heart throbbed in pain, both at the fact that her revenge seemed rather pointless, and the fact that she came to recall that day when had almost been caught because of the baker. She was angry at how the baker had treated her, but seeing the scene she had just caused… She was actually no better than he was.

She had stooped to his level and now she was paying the price, the guilt quickly worming its way into her mind and body. Vengeance didn't feel as good as the thought of it did.

She had been wrong about thinking she could put that time behind her so easily. Revenge hadn't swept the pain away, rather, it seemed to only have made it worse, the twisting knots of guilt within her tangling themselves even more.

Akiah felt her eyes water and she rushed into the nearest alley to hide away from any onlookers. She hid behind a pair of stacked crates, and she sunk to the floor, clutching her knees tightly to her chest as the tears were now freely running down her cheeks. Her cheeks turned red and puffy and her eyes were red rimmed, but she didn't care. This wasn't a time to care for her outer appearance, and it wasn't as she had ever cared too much of how she looked anyway.

Her head sunk and met her knees with a dull thud, and her form shuddered in hick-ups and half drawn breaths.

She didn't regret the words she had told him, the baker. She really hoped he had learned a lesson and that he would have better morals next time after he stepped out of the prison cell. But, she had just ruined someone's life, for her personal revenge. And she didn't even know if he had any family or not. If he did, then who would provide for them? Another hick-up wracked her body and she let out a breathless cry.

From above the rooftop, the Assassin who had followed the girl watched on as the scene played out before him. He took notice of the girl sneaking up behind the baker, doing something that he couldn't see from his perch before she returned from underneath the stall. He saw how the girl glanced towards the guards before approaching the baker's stall, only to just stand off to the side, as if waiting for something. Probably some kind of distraction, he figured. He also took notice on how she discreetly placed a loaf of bread onto the table once the moment of distraction came.

His mind analyzed the possibilities of what she was planning on doing with placing the bread there.

He soon got his answers when she once again approached the stand, but this time she went to purchase a loaf.

The same loaf she had placed there merely moments before.

Then she started to cause a scene, the guards rushing over towards the commotion, who soon arrested the baker, holding his hands bound behind his form.

Perhaps she was doing all this for some kind of revenge, he mused. She was quite innovative when it came to plotting it.

He continued to watch on, but his brow furrowed slightly when he caught the girl suddenly rushing away from the scene, pushing the pedestrians out of the way. He quickly decided to follow after her.

He certainly hadn't prepared to see her fall apart and cry in the residing alley when he arrived. Perched on the rooftop adjoined to the one she was leaning against, he heard her hick-ups as well as her attempts of trying to inhale as much air as possible only to choke on half of it, before exhaling slowly and then repeating the same cycle. From his spot on the opposite roof, he observed the girl silently, wondering and thinking. She was very unusual, he had never met or seen another individual quite like her.

He didn't know if it was a good thing or not.

Deciding that he should leave the girl to her grief, he took out a white feather from behind his leather belt before he stretched his arm out fully. He then let the feather go, it slowly floating through the still air.

He was long gone before the feather finally landed.

He didn't know whether or not the girl ever picked the feather up or not, if it had gone unnoticed or if she had seen it floating through the air, but it wasn't something he would think further about.

Only time would tell what happened to the feather - if even that. There was the chance he would never be provided an answer.


	3. Chapter 3

_~ An Eagle's Path ~_

* * *

I finally managed to come around and type up the third chapter for this story - which has kind of just been lying around and suffering from lack of updating. That's my fault though, as I've transitioned to focus on my other two stories because that's where my inspiration is the strongest at the moment. My love for AC is still always going to be there, and I'm still going to finish this story, BUT, it's just hard for me to write in the style that this story is written in, as my other two stories are a lot more sarcastic and sassy. This style however, is more plain and oldschool-like, if you get what I'm trying to say.

Simply put, forming my words right is a difficulty of mine at the moment.

Anyhow, I hope you enjoy this chapter, as it has almost been like, what? 5 months since the last chapter? Damn, that's a long time...

My bad, guys.

Thanks by the way, to those that have favved, followed and reviewed, I love you people!

 **ThatGirl -** She is indeed sneaky and smart, that's what it takes to grow up on the streets and survive! ;)

* * *

 **Chapter Three – _The Unknown Feather_**

Days after her breakdown from fulfilling her revenge, she was still not fully in her right mood. She was at times distant, her thoughts wayward and her gaze just staring off into the distance. Lilliana, Gwyneth and even Nashwa had started to worry over her odd behavior. Akiah had yet to tell them what she did that day, and she most likely wouldn't either. It was something that was going to stay with her, and only her.

She swept the floors in monotony, not really paying attention to her surroundings. It wasn't until someone tapped her on the shoulder that she was brought back to the world, however for the unfortunate person whom she just thwacked with the broom, it wasn't as pleasant as her own reawakening to reality. Akiah turned and smiled an apologetic smile towards the girl standing behind her.

"Ah, sorry Zena." She said as she placed the broom off to the side. The courtesan however, just shrugged her shoulders and returned her smile.

"No worries Akiah, I understand your thoughts were elsewhere. However you didn't respond when I called out to you so I thought that perhaps I should just nudge you to bring your attention back to the world. And it appears it worked, with side effects, of course." Zena laughed, the last part of her sentence referring to the thwack of the broom that she had received.

"Ahaha, yes… I should probably be more alert next time. Again, I'm sorry for thwacking you."

"Don't apologize, accidents happens." The courtesan smiled once again. Akiah nodded her head towards the young woman, as well as waving a good-bye before stepping out onto the steps, the courtesan returning to her place behind the desk, as well as waving back. Akiah however, had to avoid two men suddenly coming charging up the stairs, her feet swiftly stepping to the side as to avoid a head-on crash with the two.

' _Stupid, idiotic men, watch where you're going!'_ She hissed within her mind as she silently glared at the two _pigs_. She looked on as Zena greeted them, her voice turning sickly sweet. Akiah quickly headed to the ladder, no longer bearing the sound of it, instead opting for an escape. It was her free day today, and she decided to spend it watching the Creed fortress. She had to figure out the path of the scholars; how often they walked up and through the Creed's gates, and from where they started so she could hide in good time without the Assassin guards spotting her submerging within the white clad crowd.

She bounded over the familiar rooftops, heading towards the tower and climbing it. It had been a challenge at first, learning to climb the tower, but she forced herself to do it. The vantage point at the top provided the best place for observation, not to mention that the view was so breathtaking from such a height. She could see almost all of the district, and of course, see the Assassins' huge manor. It was her favourite building in whole of Masyaf.

When she first climbed the tower, she actually fell a couple times ,her feet slipping from their perching, and it took some time before she managed to figure out what bricks were the most supportive when climbing it. The only problem after having climbed the tower… was that she somehow had to get back down.

She had stepped out onto a short wooden ledge that protruded from the tower's edge to study the possibilities of descent, but almost instantly did she notice that her options were few. Akiah felt dread come over her, as she was almost desperate for a way down.

That's when she spotted a hay cart situated just below the ledge, but… jumping down from such a height was just a big no in her books. There was no way that she was going to dare the hand of the Devil by jumping down into the suspicious-looking hay cart.

Instead, she tried to look around the tower, that perhaps under the ledges there would be something helpful. And there was. She had gone to the other side of the tower to see if there was anything there to assist her in getting down so she wouldn't have to take her chances with the hay cart, and that's when she discovered a rope leading three fourths down the tower.

It had come in handy, very much so, as she used it to slide down till its end before she gripped onto the protruding stones of the tower, grasping them and steadying her footing before she let the rope go. That way, she could climb down and the jump the remaining two meters down and shoulder roll to even out the force of impact.

Sure, her way of getting down wasn't as efficient as jumping the ledge and into the hay cart but it sure was a lot safer. She didn't want to take the risk of someone spontaneously moving the cart while she was midair, or landing wrongly and breaking every bone in her body. At most she now risked a twisted ankle, with her way of getting down.

Akiah stood now at the top of the tower, her gaze taking in the awestriking view presented before her. She let her thoughts go for a few moments, just focusing on the present and all the buildings in front of her. She watched the sky and the few clouds slowly crawl across the blue heaven valve, and she closed her eyes to soak in the sun rays that were touching her bare skin. A breath of relief left her and she relaxed her body against one of the tower's four pillars. Moments like these were moments she truly appreciated. During these moments, no one could judge her. No one could tell her what to do or how to act, nor could anyone tell her to watch her tongue whenever she spoke a little too freely. Women weren't supposed to have opinions, they were just wives, only good for the household and the continuation of the men's brethren. The thought angered her, because women weren't just baby machines, or objects for that matter, they were _people._ They were just as human as any other man, yet they were treated as if they were simply usable objects, and nothing more. She had huge trust issues when it came to men, and she had good reason to have them.

Few men proved themselves worthy of earning her trust, the baker she took vengeance on one of them.

She didn't see why she should give away her respect freely when it wasn't going to be returned equally.

The calm moment now ruined, Akiah opened her eyes and stretched her back, the joints popping with the movement. It was time to get down to business. She directed her gaze to the stronghold of the Assassins, and she studied the paths of the guards. The guards present seemed to only be of Novice rank, their garments very simplistic and their weaponry limited. From her other observations, Novices stood guards on all days but Mondays, Thursdays and Fridays. During those days, the higher ups stood guard, most likely because those days were the busiest days of the stronghold. Either that, or they had a schedule she did not understand. It was only on the Saturday afternoons and Thursday mornings that the scholars headed towards the gates of the Creed, and since Novices were only present on Saturdays, she had no other choice but to go for the Saturday. Mentally counting the days, she discovered that she had five days to scheme and prepare.

Akiah was just about to descend the tower, her hands gripping the rope, when she suddenly saw something peculiar. A distinctive Assassin was heading towards the mansion, his decorative garbs a telltale sign of just _who_ it was.

It was _him,_ she noticed upon further scrutiny. Her eyes blinked in surprise, for she had not expected to see him come waltzing up to the gates. But yet he was - he had the same detailed garments, those that she could recognize just about anywhere. His white robes with the long red sash swished in sync with his graceful yet powerful strides. He walked like a man with a purpose, and with a destination in mind. Just like him, his stride spoke of how dangerous he was. Each step seemed calculated, and he moved with practiced ease. Akiah was forced to drive her gaze away, or she would most likely just stare at him like some fool until he passed the gates.

She didn't know why he had such an effect on her. Ever since she first saw him, her body had decided to have a mind of its own whenever he was within her vicinity. She wasn't sure if it irritated her or not. However, she let the matter go and descended the tower to head back to the Nightshade brothel. She needed to find white robes similar to the scholars', and, her mind conjured, robes that looked just like a certain Assassin.

She asked Zena where Lilliana and Gwyneth were when she returned, and the courtesan replied that Lilliana was free but that Gwyneth was still _'working'_. Akiah thought it weird to associate the word work with… well, with whoring. In her mind, it just didn't make sense, the puzzle pieces just not fitting together.

She headed to the second floor where the courtesans had their shared rooms. Just as Zena had said, Lilliana was present, and at the moment she was seated at the mirror table applying paints onto her beautiful facial futures.

Lilliana was slightly different compared to the other courtesans, her hair was a midnight black shade with strikingly blue eyes. She had a petite nose, going well with her blue doe-like orbs. Her mouth was small but her bottom lip plump, them having a natural rose-coloured tint. Her cheekbones where sharp but at the same time, they were soft. It was the complete opposite of her own, which were rounded and simply not jutting out of her face like Lilliana's did. Although, she did have her stormy grey eyes, but they were nothing compared to her best friend's blue eyes - even though Lilliana always argued that her eyes where a more unique shade. According to Lilliana, her eyes even had flecks of green and an orange-hued circle surrounding the iris. It all depended on the light, on how it was reflected in her eyes that determined whether or not the flecks of green would be visible or not. But stubborn as she was, Akiah simply denied her best friend's claims.

"Painting on yourself again, Lilliana? I should try drawing a mustache on your sometime. Maybe when you're sleeping, you wouldn't suspect a thing." Akiah slyly remarked when she entered the room. But it wasn't just her who had a sharp and witty tongue, Lilliana had her fair share of quick comebacks too, one which certainly matched her own.

"Well, now you cannot because you just revealed your plan. I'd simply anticipate it and sleep with one eye open." Her best friend replied, her smile reflecting her own. Akiah just threw her hands in the air.

"Alright, you got me. But trust me on this, when you least expect it, I _will_ draw a mustache on you. Just you wait."

"You can try, but you will not succeed."

"We shall see about that."

"Or we won't see at all, because it will never happen."

"Oh yes it will."

"Will not."

"It will."

"Not likely."

"Very likely."

"Are you just trying to match my answers just to have the last word?"

"Maybe, would that be a problem?"

"Yes, a very huge one because you won't have the last word."

"I'm stubborn, you sure you want to try me?"

"Right now? No, I rather not. My shift is starting soon, thus why I am 'painting on myself' as you so adequately put it." Lilliana remarked, using Akiah's words against her. She admittedly had to agree with the fact that Lilliana definitely was a girl with good wits, because she was nearly beaten at her own game whenever she engaged Lilliana in a conversation of matching wits.

But then again, it was one of the traits she loved about her friend. It was a good-natured challenge.

"You look beautiful without all those paints, are you sure you have to wear them?" Akiah asked she sat down on the pallet closest to her. Her friend finished with a few final touches before turning towards her.

"Yes, I do have to because it is common courtesy. Clients prefer us with paints on our facial futures, and so we comply." She shrugged with her words, thinking it wasn't that big of a problem. But to Akiah however, she found it quite contradicting.

"I believe it's a huge irony that people say women are carrying natural beauty when all they see are the paints that they force upon our faces just to keep their statements true. Were we to refrain from the paints altogether, they would truly see this natural beauty they speak of." Akiah almost sourly remarked. Lilliana just let out a sigh.

"Akiah, I know you hold a certain… disdain towards the opposite gender, but you should try give them a chance rather than wave them all off. Maybe the ones coming here aren't of the best material, perhaps you need to widen your views and search elsewhere for someone to share your life with."

Akiah stared at her friend, her eyes locking with the blue hues of Lilliana. Within those blue eyes, she saw many things, and she saw that Lilliana was so much wiser than many others believed. She was intelligent, and smarter beyond her years.

"Lilliana… Why are you even at such a place like this when you obviously deserve a fate so much better? You do know Mother Nashwa would let you go if you asked her?" Lilliana just smiled a sad smile.

"People look down upon my profession, but it really isn't as bad as it seems. It was my free choice of becoming a courtesan. I would have either died of starvation by now or been a slave who gets treated badly. Here, I have my own freedom. I get well taken care of, and I get to make choices entirely by myself. As a slave or street child, I wouldn't be able to have the same options. It is a small price to pay for my freedom."

"I was a street child though… But I guess you are right, it certainly was a tough lifestyle, and at times, I wondered if I would make it to the next day." Akiah was silent for a few moments, before continuing.

"I really admire you, Lilliana, I truly do, you're always so inspirational." Akiah lifted her gaze to meet that of her friend's, who cracked a wide smile, her wine red lips showing a hint of teeth.

"I would have not met you had I not been a courtesan. So perhaps my profession isn't as bad as you make it out to be." Akiah smiled a smile of her own and laughed softly.

"That is also true." She then rose from her position on the pallet, walking over to the wardrobe section of the room.

"I have a favour to ask of you. Do you have any white robes with a hood sewn onto them? You know, one that looks like a scholars' clothing?" She asked from within the wardrobe, her head completely submerged in the many silks and tulles and drapes of several different dresses- or in her opinion, painful contraptions of imprisonment.

Lilliana assumed a contemplative expression before she replied.

"No, I don't think I have one, but Gwyneth might have one stashed away. She was gifted a similar robe to the one you described by one of her clients. Perhaps he was a scholar himself. You should check with her when she is, ah- _done._ " Lilliana coughed, and Akiah couldn't refrain from the smile curving her lips upwards.

"I appreciate your effort in not mentioning any details of your professions when I'm nearby. It's much less torture for my mind."

"Ah, I'm sure the sounds enough terrify you."

"About that, you are completely right. I do believe I have nightmares some nights because of it."

"At least you have your sleeping place on the third floor, you do not have to hear the worst of it."

"The walls are paper thin, I do not digress."

"Well then, my mistake." Akiah shook her head as she closed the wardrobe.

"Do you know when Gwyneth will be done?"

"I do not. But maybe you could just sneak into her wardrobe and borrow it. I don't think she would mind, I have never seen her wear it anyway."

"Good idea, I'm going to go do that. Thanks Lilliana!" And with that, Akiah swiftly turned on her heel and jogged out of the room, leaving Lilliana to shake her head at her friend's odd behavior.

"You certainly are unusual, Akiah."

* * *

Five days later, Akiah had it all ready. It turned out Gwyneth actually had a scholar's robe in her wardrobe and so she borrowed it. Although she had to make a few adjustments for its length, as it had her tripping on its edges. She proceeded to take out the beard that she had made in preparation for this very moment, and she smiled widely. This plan of hers was certainly odd, but she trusted it would work.

Akiah proceeded to put on the beard, tying the ends at the back of her head before putting on the robe. She flipped the hood up and made some final adjustments to make sure it all looked ready to go. Even though she appeared calm on the outside, that was actually far away from the truth. Her heart was beating painfully fast, and her palms were clammy. She was extremely nervous because the repercussions of impersonating a scholar could vary from just a scolding to imprisonment. It was a big risk she was taking, but as Faher had said, it wouldn't be easy to get to Al Mualim. Her conviction in wanting to get to him spoke of how much she really wanted to join in on the Creed.

Of course, she had no complaints over her life as it is, but she felt as if something was missing. The thrill she felt before as a thief, the freedom of just doing whatever she wished for and then get away with it - it was amazing. She had something to believe in then, she had herself and that was it. She couldn't rely on anyone, all she had was herself. Her belief in what she was capable of was what kept her going some days. She had always dreamt of wanting to become something bigger. She wanted to make a change, but that was a difficult goal because she was a woman. Women didn't do anything of the sort besides taking care of the household, something she saw as a dull life, akin to captivity.

Akiah shut her eyes and let out a slow breath. She felt the parchment from Faher lay underneath the white scholar robes, and she steeled herself for the oncoming moment.

The scholars were close to her alley way, and just as they passed by, she stepped out and mingled into their crowd. They didn't seem to notice that she came from nowhere, instead focused on their clasped hands. She copied their movements and clasped her own hands in front of her in an almost prayer as she directed her head downwards. So far there was no problem, however the hardest part had yet to come, and that was to not break down under the scrutinizing gaze of the Assassin guards.

The group of scholars slowly made their way up to the mansion. She was closer than she had ever been, and she could feel the sweat accumulate on her body in anticipation.

They were just at the gates, and she glanced up to take notice of the guards. They weren't looking right at her, instead their gaze directed elsewhere and she let out a relieved sigh. Had they been looking at her, she wouldn't have known what to do. Probably crinkle her eyes and smile and nod her head or something to fool them.

' _Do not compromise yourself Akiah, no unnecessary risks!'_ She whispered inwardly to herself. They passed the gates, now walking in a narrow walkway, and she now had no idea how it would go. She had never seen this part for she had never been inside the Creed's walls. She had full faith in following the scholars, but she had no clue how far they would walk, whether or not they would walk into their mansion or just stand outside. From now on, she had to improvise.

The scholars continued their designated path, walking in slow harmony as the guards of the Creed watched on. The narrow walkway ended and Akiah almost gaped at the view before her. There were Assassins training in a sparring ring, while others threw knives at hay dolls. She could hear the grunts and shouts of the Assassins and she was just in awe. This was the place she wanted to be in… She felt right at home already. Her eyes swept over the surroundings, albeit in a cautious manner, for she was still impersonating a scholar. Their shuffling feet continued straight ahead, heading closer to the stone mansion that towered over the grounds within its walls. Another gasp left her as she took notice of the huge building in front of her.

' _It's huge… I'm actually here, and I'm seeing this…'_ She thought to herself. She never actually believed she would make it past the gates, because well, she had never seen this part. To her, it was like a newly discovered country, a new land.

Technically, it kind of was actually, because had never set foot inside the gates, which made it untouched land for her - until now.

Akiah followed the group of scholars, lingering at the back of the line as they came closer to the mansion. Her gaze subtly shifted to the sides, watching the Assassins train as well as keeping an eye out on where there were guards. She saw a few patrol on top of the mansion but otherwise there weren't so many guards in here.

It made sense though, why would Assassins need guards if they can just take care of the problem themselves?

The white clad scholars marched on, and she shuffled together with them. They entered the mansion and what she saw was nothing less but grandeur. There were two staircases leading up to a library in the front of, while off to the sides, there were corridors with intersecting doors. She saw the Creed's Insignia on several banners hanging within the stone mansion and she had to stop herself from lifting her head to gaze at the ceiling. If she did that, then they'd most likely find her suspicious and lead her away. She shuddered at what the Assassins might come to do if they caught her.

Probably nothing nice.

It was at this moment, when the scholars simply stood in the middle of the mansion that she really had no clue on what to do. She didn't know much about the scholar's duties and so, she was stuck with them now. Her mind worked fervently of how she was going to solve this issue - and to figure out where Al Mualim was. She didn't know how he looked like, much less where he was situated. However, Faher had said that Al Mualim was their Master, and so he had to be of availability to the other Assassins… She glanced up towards the Library that was on the higher plane of the mansion, her eyes sweeping over the bookcases. Maybe…?

What if she asked one of the Assassins where Al Mualim was, in the pretense that she had to deliver a letter to him from the scholars' own Mentor? It was the only plan she could conjure up and one that didn't risk her hide all too much.

The only problem would be to try impersonate the voice of a scholar; the voice of a _man._ So she coughed and cleared her throat before making a growling sound. She added some words with the growling and the result was… well, it would probably function. Most scholars were elderly, which meant they had raspy voices by nature.

Akiah then stepped out of the formation, her hands still clasped together. Without using her sight too much, she just saw the end of the robe of the closest Assassin and so she walked up to him, intent on asking him for directions to their Master.

However, what she hadn't predicted was that it would be _the_ Assassin - whom she had met once before.

When her eyes took notice of the huge amount of details and the intricate patterns of his leather belt, she felt how her stomach suddenly dropped.

' _Oh no…'_ She felt a wave of panic crash into her, and she almost flinched in reaction from the sudden change in emotion. One second ago she had been relatively confident, but now?

She was close to just wanting to lie down and die.

She gulped, and placed her focus on keeping her disguise intact. She could not falter now, not when she had come so far. She would simply have to ask _him_.

The Assassin before her turned towards her, his hooded gaze scrutinizing her own shrouded face. The beard made out of goat fur that she wore, was probably the best idea she had ever had, for without it she most likely would've been busted right about now.

Never mind the fact that it hid her terrible poker face, too. She could not keep her face straight even if her life depended on it, which it technically was at the moment.

This was the moment of truth, and she coughed and cleared her throat before speaking, using the raspy voice that she quickly made up merely minutes before.

"I am here on behalf of the scholar Mentor, I have a letter to deliver to your Master, Al Mualim. Might you be so kind and direct me to him?" She asked, her voice almost a whisper. She dared not to speak any higher. The Assassin before her regarded her with a critical gaze, she knew this even though she could not see his face. She just knew from his aura. He was _radiating_ suspiciousness. A few beats of silence passed before the Assassin spoke up, and when she heard his voice, she almost literally _died_ on the spot.

It was baritone, and it was _deep,_ _sinfully_ so. She cursed everything within her vicinity. No less did he have to intrigue her, but he has a god gifted _voice too?_

"Do you have the letter on you? May I see it?" Came his inquiry, and she quickly swallowed. He wanted to see the letter? Her hands sunk to her sides before she lifted them again to part the fabric of her robe to grasp the parchment she had stashed inside the robe. Faher was indirectly her lifesaver, had he not sent the parchment with her to bring then she would have a knife burrowed in her person for treachery.

Or something akin to such a fate.

"This is the letter." She then said, voice once again raspy. The end of the sentence almost shook from the amount of panic she was feeling. It was nerve-wracking to stand within such close proximity of _him._

She made sure to keep her hand as hidden as possible while she showed him the letter, for if he saw her hands, he would notice how they didn't look elderly at all.

Another moment of silence came as she stood in her hunched position, waiting for the Assassin to either strike her down or bring her to Al Mualim.

He didn't strike her down, for she heard him hum, and then she heard shuffling. Her brow crinkled in confusion, for he had yet to tell her where Al Mualim was. Or perhaps… Was he going to follow her all the way? If that was the case… How was she going to survive?

' _I'm dead…'_

She heard another shuffle and she lifted her gaze to see the Assassin standing off to the side, his hood pointed in her direction.

So it was concluded, he was going to be her partner in her trip up to their leader.

"Come, he is up in the Library." Came his deep baritone voice and she clenched her jaw shut in agitation.

Just, why her? Why did she have to suffer so much? She swore that life just played these types of tricks on her just in spite.

They slowly made their way up the right-hand staircase, one in a state of calmness, while the other bordered on having a panic attack. They walked past several bookcases and made a right turn in between two other bookcases before reaching a wide open spot, where no one but Al Mualim was standing. Akiah took notice of a desk with piles of stacked papers and a chair next to it before she finally turned her eyes to their leader.

He was elderly, and he surprisingly looked a lot like Faher. They both had grey beards, although Al Mualim's was several shades darker. He wore similar robes to the Assassin next to her, however they were coloured grey. The robe underneath though, was white, just like the other Assassins' robes.

She un-winded her jaw from its locked state and was just about to speak, but she was suddenly interrupted before a word came through.

"This isn't a true scholar, Al Mualim."

Akiah felt dread wash over her at what the Assassin had just said. Had he-how did he know? _How?_ She swallowed down the new wave of panic that was threatening to override her body and she let out a defeated sigh.

"No? He looks just like one, what makes you say this?" Came the raspy voice of Al Mualim. His voice was pleasant to hear, a southern accent laced throughout. He had the same effect on her as her Father's voice had. It made her feel calm all of a sudden, making her believe that she wasn't in danger even though to the contrary she was.

"His hands. They aren't hands of an old man, but that of a young boy." The Assassin stated. Al Mualim stroked his beard in thought before his gaze came to rest on her. Her shoulders slightly slumped.

"Well then, this is an interesting turn of events. Who are you, boy, if not a scholar?" Al Mualim asked, and finding no other reason to keep her disguise intact, she threw the robes off of her along with the fake beard. She was left standing in her usual clothes, the white robes descending to the floor and landing at her feet. Her eyes however, were directed to the floor as she clenched the parchment within her hands. The flash of recognition within the eyes of the Assassin standing next to her went by unnoticed.

"Not a boy, but a woman at that - One who managed to successfully fool our guards, and the other Assassins as well. A grand feat, but tell me, child, why all this trouble? What is your purpose of coming here?" Al Mualim questioned, and Akiah, who had been having a staring contest with the stone floor, finally lifted her gaze to meet the one of Al Mualim's. There was an air of finality surrounding the three. She took a breath before answering, her voice unsure and shaky.

"I sneaked into the mansion because I have a request… And a parchment from Faher. He told me to give it to you should I manage to get an audience with you. I know strangers aren't welcome within the fortress walls, much less a woman, so I had no choice but to impersonate a scholar to be able to get in…" Her voice faded into silence. She could feel her eyes sting from the building water but she refused to cry, especially not in front of _him,_ and Al Mualim. She wasn't going to show herself weak, for she was anything _but._

Al Mualim looked at her contemplatively before he reached out, the flat of his palm directed towards her. Knowing he was asking for the parchment, she slowly placed it in his hand before retracting her hands to her midsection. She kept them clenched around each other, not knowing what else to do with them.

There was silence as Al Mualim rolled the parchment open and read its contents. His face was neutral, not showing a hint of what Faher had written. Not even she knew what he had written, but she knew he had written words of positive suggestion.

Then, Al Mualim placed the parchment off to the side of his desk, and he came to stand before her once again. Her grey eyes gazed into his, and she stood there, silent, waiting for her judgement.

"Faher has told me that your way of traveling is just that of the Brotherhood, you climb walls and jump on top of rooftops rather than walking through Masyaf's streets. You also have… creative ways of entering other people's houses. Jumping in through the lattice rooftop? Clever. However, he stated you lack training, that your skills are unrefined. He suggests I should lend you the opportunity of initiation within the Order. Tell me, is this truly what you want?" Al Mualim's voice was steady and his gaze bore into hers. At hearing him question whether or not she wanted to join the Creed, her eyes hardened and she rose from her slightly hunched pose.

"Yes, it's truly what I want. Ever since I was told of the Creed, I have had as a goal to join it. I may be a woman, but that shouldn't matter, because I have the passion and will to learn." Akiah revealed the truth the secret she had kept with her for so long. She had listened to Faher's words, and accepted them at face value. Al Mualim stared into her eyes a few more seconds before the tip of lips curved, and he cocked his head to the side.

"You recite the words of Faher. You have conviction in your words, and you seem to have the spirit." He said, and he turned towards the Assassin next to her. Akiah then suddenly swallowed, for she had forgotten that _he_ was standing there, her focus completely stuck in the conversation she had with Al Mualim. She herself turned to look up at the Assassin, her gaze now unsure and cautious.

"What do you think, Altair?"

' _Altair?'_ Akiah then thought to herself.

' _His name is Altair…'_

She stood in silence. She was shocked at the discovery of his name. She had wondered so many times what his name might be, and she had even asked him once when she first met him, but he refused to give an answer. Actually, he refused to even _speak._

But now, now she had come to learn his name, and upon gazing up at him, she thought the name fitted him perfectly. _The flyer…_

' _He reminds me of an Eagle… Majestic, beautiful… but dangerous and unpredictable.'_

"If it is what she wishes. I trust in your choice, Master." Came Altair's answer, and she rejoiced. He wasn't denying her entrance into the Order, but neither was he approving it. He simply left the decision in his Master's hands. Al Mualim nodded towards him before turning his back to them both.

"Initiation starts in seven days. Be here at noon." Akiah nodded even though she knew he couldn't see it. She was escorted down by Altair, whom her thoughts were now on. She fiddled with the white robes in her hands as she stared unseeingly at them.

"You were the one that gave me those feathers." She stated, her fingers plucking at random threads. The Assassin walking beside her slightly turned his head towards her before returning to looking straight ahead. It seemed she did pick up that second feather after all.

"Yes, that was me." He replied. Akiah blinked her eyes before directing her gaze to him.

"Thank you, for saving me in that alley." He came to a stop when he heard her uttered words of thank you. He didn't turn to look at her, rather, he turned his gaze to look up at the gates of the fortress.

"It was a good thing you did not manage to throw me off, else you would most likely not be standing here now." The Assassin said, and Akiah let out a silent sigh. She knew she was lucky that she hadn't been successful in throwing him off. Or she would, as he said, not be standing here at this moment.

"I'm grateful for that. At first I thought you were chasing after me, but you were after that madman weren't you?" Akiah questioned.

"I was. I knew of your mission to Faher's house, and that my target would try to intercept you. I took the opportunity when he was distracted to strike." After saying those words, he continued his stride, and Akiah quickly followed.

"So in a way, I assisted you." She said, and a small smile crept up onto her lips. Altair just snorted in response before telling her no. She didn't argue back, but she knew inwardly that she had helped him in his mission. Of course, the madman would've died either way, but she simplified it for him, acting as the distraction.

Altair came to a stop at the end of the gates, and he turned towards her.

"This is where I leave you." And with that, he turned on his heel and walked back the same way they came. Akiah was a little surprised at his sudden retreat. However, she just shrugged it off and walked down the hill back to the Nightshade brothel, all the while carrying a wide smile, her grey eyes shining with joy.

After all, she was going to join the Assassin's Creed. It was enough reason to smile.

* * *

Yeah, initiatioooon!


End file.
